Stained
by Tori of Lorien
Summary: Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.
1. Chapter 1

**Stained**

 **Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Rating** : T

 **Genre** : Drama/Friendship

 **Characters** : Thranduil, Aragorn/Estel, Elrond, Legolas, Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir, and Glorfindel, features OCs

 **Author's Note** : Hello! So, before we get any further with this, I'd like to apologize for how long it's been since I finished "Tainted," and for how long it took for me to start its sequel. There really isn't much of a reason for this long wait, other than real life, some writing opportunities outside of this site and art opportunities that have kept me busy, and some personal matters I've had to deal with got in the way. But "Tainted" means a lot to me, and so does "Stained," and they are stories that never left my mind. So, for those of you who come back to read this since you enjoyed the first one, welcome back! I hope you'll enjoy this one as much as the first, it should be quite a ride. For those of you just stumbling upon this story for the first time, I would suggest checking out "Tainted" first since this will probably not make much sense otherwise. And for those of you who have stuck with me, thank you so, so much! Also, huge shoutout to **Gwed** for your patience and excitement and encouragement about this story being back in the works– it means a lot to me, _mellon-nín_! I definitely enjoy our talks about it, and I hope a certain chief advisor will live up to your expectations. On that note, "Stained" will pick up pretty much right from where "Tainted" left off with our favorite Elves and five-year-old Estel and will follow the same storyline threads, namely the two Elves who have a vendetta against Thranduil and Elrond, as well as Erestor's mysterious past he is trying to close the door on. This chapter is a bit on the longer side (hopefully, it partially makes up for my long absence!) and is the proverbial calm before the storm as well as sets the tone for the rest of the story. So, with all that in mind, I will not keep you any longer (the rest of my author's notes should not be this long, no worries!), and let's get on with this, shall we? Read and review if you would like to, just no flames, please. I hope you guys enjoy it, and again, I apologize for how long it's been! Thanks, guys!

Elvish:

 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _ada_ – father  
 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _naneth_ – mother  
 _muindor_ – brother  
 _tithen pen_ – little one

 _Chapter 1_

 _Screams echoed around him..._

 _... blood stained the gently swaying flowers in the grass beneath his feet..._

 _... his stained blade glinted in the pale sun..._

Erestor quickly sat up on his bed, his eyes slightly wide as he looked at the dark room around him. He then let out the deep breath he hadn't fully realized he had been holding, closing his eyes once more as he weakly passed a hand over his clammy face. It was not often that he dreamt, for he was so occupied with his duties around Imladris that he usually slept lightly at best.

But that was the way he preferred it. For as long as he could recall, at least for as long as he had resided within the walls of Imladris, the dreams that plagued him had more often than not been dark, especially in times of stress. Sleep without dreams was what he needed, and normally, his hard work granted him that.

Though it was the stressful events of the past couple days that had exhausted him to the point of dreaming. Erestor clearly remembered how King Thranduil of Mirkwood, along with his son, Legolas, had arrived in Rivendell to discuss the usual agreements between them for the upcoming season. It was something they had always done.

But what they had not considered, as there was no way they could have, was that a traitor had been in their midst.

Aeglironion had been one of the most respected cooks in Elrond's service for years, but he was one who had been planning on poisoning both the gentle-hearted Elf lord and the proud Woodland king for an injustice he felt that he had been a victim of. That injustice, according to Elrond and Thranduil, was being banished from Greenwood sometime after the Last Alliance on the grounds of plotting an assassination attempt against the latter. There had been a couple Elves in the Woodland forces under Aeglironion's command who had been discontent under Oropher's rule and did not wish to see his son rise to the throne, though Aeglironion continued to claim that he had had no hand in it and was instead trying to stop it. Though Thranduil's word had been final.

Both the lord of Imladris and Mirkwood's king placed the blame on themselves for how the situation had been handled, especially if Aeglironion truly had been wrongfully banished, but Erestor still felt that guilt was misplaced. He was just relieved that the deceitful Elf had been caught before he could successfully complete his plan and that Elrond had not suffered from the poison's effects while Thranduil was recovering his strength due in part to the heroic efforts of the small mortal child living in their home.

Their friend would recover, Aeglironion and Amonost– a guard in Rivendell's patrol who had aided in the former's plan– would have judgement passed on them the following morning, and all of this would be behind them. Everything would return to normal.

 _... a dark figure hovered over him..._

 _... a vial of ink spilled onto the blank pages sitting on the desk in front of him before they drifted to the ground..._

 _... the blade of his dagger glinted before him, and he slowly reached a slightly shaking hand out toward it..._

Erestor attempted to take a deep breath, but he just couldn't seem to control it. With his heart pounding in his chest, he shut his eyes tightly to try to block out the haunting images and the awful sounds, and he reached out blindly for his robe as he stumbled out of bed. In his haste, his hand connected with something on the small end table beside him, causing whatever it was to fall and smash when it hit the floor. Erestor's dark eyes snapped open as he looked down, seeing it had been an extra vial of ink he had set there a couple days before and just hadn't gotten around to putting away in his storage closet yet. His panicked gaze followed the black rivulets as they slowly spread away from the shattered glass for a long moment before he was finally able to tear it away. With slightly shaking hands, the advisor finally managed to grab hold of his robe and slipped it on, tying it around his slender waist with a little more difficulty than the simple action required. Still not quite able to catch his breath, he turned and walked briskly to the tall window across the room from him and lightly pushed on the pane to open it.

The chill in the night air caressed his pale features as he leaned outside, and Erestor let out a long breath before finally being able to take a full one. He spent a few moments in silence as he simply looked out at the still valley and the stars that pricked the dark sky above him, feeling as his breathing slowly steadied, his heartbeat returned to a normal rate, and the trembling in his fingers stilled. He closed his eyes for a long moment, allowing that peace to fill him completely. With the day that loomed before him, he knew he would have to be well rested. Though sleep was certainly out of the question now.

He couldn't allow the dreams to return again.

After another few minutes of ensuring he was composed, Erestor turned away from the window and faced his dark room. His gaze immediately landed on the shattered ink vial, knowing he'd have to clean the mess before it stained his floor completely. He grabbed the damp cloth from his wash basin before dropping to one knee on the floor beside his bed, but when the chief advisor leaned forward to start cleaning up the ink and broken glass, he paused with a wince as he set his hand lightly over his left side. Now that Thranduil was guaranteed to make a full recovery after being so uncertain the day before, Erestor had finally allowed Elrond to thoroughly tend to the stab wound he had received from Amonost when he had attempted to bring him to the Elf lord for questioning of his involvement in the Mirkwood monarch's poisoning– he knew his friend would have relentlessly persisted had he not agreed. It was stitched up and healing nicely, but the pain would still resurface every now and again if he moved the wrong way.

But it wasn't the physical ailment that nagged at him most. It wasn't even the fact that Amonost had actually done it, since he had clearly panicked in the moment and hadn't meant to bring him harm, so he couldn't place full blame on the guard. It was that the trusted soldier in their defenses who had for so long worked under Glorfindel, and even had a hand in training Elladan and Elrohir into the skilled warriors they were, had betrayed them. Aeglironion's actions were despicable enough, but he had not lived in the peaceful valley of Imladris nearly as long as Amonost had. He just couldn't bring himself to believe that someone he had known for so long would do something to willingly help in a plot to assassinate not only Thranduil but Elrond, the Elf lord who had brought him into his home. But, he supposed that they would have the answers they needed when judgement would be passed on both Aeglironion and Amonost the following day.

A weary sigh passed from Erestor's lips when he finished gathering all the shards of glass and soaked up the spilled ink, though even in the minimal light filtering into the room, he could see that some of the dark liquid had bled into his floor and could not be cleaned. Deciding there was nothing more he could do for the time being, he rose to his feet and set the used rag back in the wash basin, where it would stay until he cleaned it out and replaced it the next morning. The advisor then straightened up his bed before he changed into a fresh black tunic and neatly folded up his robe before setting it at the foot of his bed, figuring that since he wasn't going to get any more sleep, he would use the few valuable hours that remained before first light to catch up on some important paperwork that he had set aside due to the more vital situation at hand involving Thranduil's life.

Though as he pulled open the door of his storage closet to gather the supplies he would need to complete his task, Erestor paused when his gaze landed on the second shelf from the bottom.

 _He reached toward the shelf, slowly pushing the piles of blank parchment aside. He instantly stopped, his jaw setting firmly as he hesitantly grasped the slightly curved handle of what he kept hidden behind them._

 _He slid the Noldorin dagger out of its worn, thin sheath, revealing the intricately designed blade it contained, the dark handle fitting perfectly in his palm..._

Erestor shook his head against the recent memory when, after so long, he'd almost considered breaking the promise he'd made to himself to never again use the beautiful but deadly weapons he'd kept after all that time. It would have been for a good cause– after all, he had been the one to leave Estel alone, which had allowed Aeglironion to attempt to use the mortal boy as some extra leverage against Elrond.

But he couldn't have been more relieved that Glorfindel, the stubborn twice-born Balrog Slayer he considered to be his most trusted friend, had been there to talk him out of it.

With another sigh, Erestor finished grabbing a few handfuls of blank parchment, a couple quills, and a couple vials of ink before he turned his back on what was hidden under the instruments of his daily tasks and closed the closet door behind him. He then quietly opened the door of his room and glanced out into the dark hallway, finding it to be as empty as he'd hoped before he stepped out and began to make his way toward his sanctuary in the library.

* * *

 _"Glorfindel, I vowed I would not use these again..."_

 _"Not this day, Erestor."_

From where he was leaning against the wall in the hallway adjacent to Erestor's room, Glorfindel tilted his head slightly as he listened to the chief advisor close his door before his retreating footsteps faded in the direction of the library. He had been on his way to check on the dark-haired Elf since the last time he had seen him when he had tried to bring him dinner to where he'd assumed he'd have been working in the library, he hadn't been in the best frame of mind. He couldn't say he was surprised that his friend would seek the comforts his work provided him after all that had occurred in the past couple days since he hadn't gotten any done. After all, Erestor was known to get even more irritable if the work he had to complete was put off for too long.

But what did concern the Balrog Slayer was what had seemed to wake Erestor at such a late hour in such a state, having heard some glass shattering from inside the room. Not that his own state of mind was faring much better that night. Sleep had eluded him, even though the threat they had been faced with where both Thranduil and Elrond's lives had been at risk had passed, but it was the events themselves that caused him to be so restless. Since all of Imladris' defenses were under his command, Glorfindel had always worked tirelessly along with Elrond to ensure that their borders were well protected from any threat that drew too near. Now that a serious threat had risen from within their own walls, it was something that left him a bit unsettled. Amonost was a guard he had trusted completely since he was one who had been under his command the longest, and though Aeglironion had not initially hailed from Rivendell, he had given him no reason to doubt his loyalty during the time he had spent in the valley.

He wondered how he could have been so deceived by them.

With a sigh, Glorfindel pushed away from the wall and turned the corner, making his way down the same hallway the slender advisor had. His light gaze landed on Erestor's closed door as he passed it, hesitating ever so slightly before making his way to the same destination, finding upon his arrival at the library that one of the two double doors was slightly open. The golden-haired warrior reached out and pushed it open a little more as quietly as he could before stepping inside the dark room, silently making his way through the shelves of books until he spotted what he'd come to find.

Erestor was sitting at the back table in the corner where he always found refuge, a single lit candle along with the traces of moonlight filtering in through the window casting light over the paperwork he'd spread over the wooden surface. The only sound that could be heard in the vast, nearly empty room was the near silent scratch the quill made against the parchment as the dark-haired Elf hurriedly scribbled across it, pausing only for more ink when the need arose. He was so focused on the task at hand, nearly doubled over the desk with his nose touching the paper, that he didn't seem to even notice the second Elf's presence.

Glorfindel's light gaze faltered as he watched his friend furiously work on trying to complete the job he, in his mind, should have finished a couple days before with a slight tremble lingering in his thin fingers. He still clearly remembered discovering Erestor standing in his storage closet not once but twice with one of his twin Noldorin daggers that he tried to keep hidden held tightly in his hands in the midst of the events of the past couple days. There had only been rare occasions during their time in Imladris when he had seen the chief advisor near that state of mind, and it'd concerned him every time. He could only assume this time had resulted from the recent events where people they both cared about had been at risk, especially when Erestor had blamed himself for Estel's kidnapping, but it worried him all the same.

 _"I vowed I would not use these again..."_

Ever since Erestor had made that promise, Glorfindel had vowed to himself to do everything he could to make sure his friend kept his word. Dwelling on the past tended to cause the other Elf some anxiety, only he and Elrond knew that well– for as long as he had known him, the chief advisor functioned best when he had things under control, and when he had needed those daggers had been a time when they had not been. And with all the stress of the past couple days, things once again had felt as though they had been starting to get out of control, though fortunately, they had not ended up that way– once the morning came, both of their minds could be more at ease. The Balrog Slayer knew that what Erestor was doing now, focusing solely on the tasks that had to be done so he could block out the rest of the world, was him returning to a place he felt in control.

Not wanting to disturb him since his friend seemed to be composed, Glorfindel turned away and slipped out of the library, silently closing the door behind him. It was with confidence he felt that he could find Erestor in the same place come morning. He then set off with purpose, his path bringing him to two locked doors across from each other at the end of another hallway, and the dark-haired guard who was stationed there bowed his head in respect as he approached.

"How fare the prisoners?" the twice-born warrior asked, his tone void of emotion as his light gaze moved to the heavy locks in place over both doors. His hand lingered near the hilt of his sword.

"There has been no sound from them, _hir-nín_ ," the guard answered. "There is no need for worry. They will keep until morning."

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed slightly. With Aeglironion's desire for revenge, and the slight struggle he himself had had with interrogating Amonost, he couldn't deny he found their submissive behavior a bit strange. "Good," he finally murmured, meeting the guard's gaze. "Alert me if there is any change with either of them, or if you require my aid."

"Aye, _hir-nín_."

With a slight nod of his own to the guard, Glorfindel lingered for a moment longer before he turned and started to make his way to his own room, though he knew he would get no sleep that night with as much as there was on his mind. Morning could not come soon enough, for he could not wait to put this entire ordeal behind him.

* * *

 _"Remember my words, Thranduil."_

With a weary sigh, the Woodland king slowly opened his eyes, gazing back at his pale reflection in the window from where he was sitting in the chair in front of it. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so exhausted. During his reign over Mirkwood, there had been plenty of sleepless nights and draining days spent on their borders defending his people from the ever increasing Shadow, or times of grief or long nights of agonizing over the safety of his son.

But yet, it seemed like such a long time since he had been this exhausted.

Thranduil's brow furrowed as he placed a ringed hand lightly over his stomach. Though Elrond's antidote had counteracted the spread of the poison that had been ravaging his body, there were still times where he was able to feel its burning effects while he recovered his strength. As frustrating as his weakness was, deep down, he felt that it may not have been so unjustified.

Setting his jaw, Thranduil slowly pushed himself out of the cushioned chair he was sitting in and turned away from the window. He splashed a little water from the wash basin that had been left in the room Elrond had prepared for him on his face, taking a deep breath as he blinked some drops out of his eyes. It had been so long since he had seen Aeglironion, an Elf who had previously been part of his, and his father's before him, defenses in Greenwood. Though after all that had happened over the past couple of days since he had been in Imladris, there was not much he could remember about him from that time. All the king could see when he thought of Aeglironion's name was his brash nature when he had spoken to him that morning where he was being held prisoner, the cruelty and rage in his cold eyes when he spoke about those fateful events in Greenwood and those he believed were responsible for them, and the conviction behind his final threat.

 _"You know not what you, and Elrond, have taken from me, Thranduil, though by the Valar, one day you will."_

Thranduil closed his eyes, knowing he would have no difficulty in remembering Aeglironion's words, for they would haunt his mind for some time to come. He set a steadying hand on the table before him as he took a deep breath and opened his eyes once more, his worn gaze moving around the silent, dark room. What Aeglironion could be so adamant in saying he and Elrond had taken from him through his banishment, he wasn't sure. And the more he struggled to think of what it could possibly be, the more he was at a loss. The little the Mirkwood monarch did remember of him, though hadn't thought about until that sleepless night, when he had been a guard in Greenwood seemed positive– his father had spoken highly of Aeglironion for his skill as a warrior, he had even been at Thranduil's side when there had been an assassination attempt on Oropher's life and helped detain the traitorous guard who had struck the king with a poisoned dart, and he had been one of the remaining of his depleted forces when they had returned to Greenwood after the Last Alliance. Though they were traits and memories he had of more soldiers than just Aeglironion. He hadn't done anything that had made him stand out in a negative way, or in an overly positive way, during his time in his service.

Though what had possibly happened to cause him to turn to such actions against him and Elrond now, he had no way of knowing, other than his forced, and perceived unjust, banishment from Greenwood had cost him something. And though it was enough to make him question if his former guard had been right in saying that he had nothing to do with the assassination attempt on him when he had been discovered with the couple guards in his forces who truly did want him dead, Thranduil knew that the key in figuring out his motivations for the events of the past couple days was in uncovering just what it was that he had lost. And he hoped that all would be understood once morning came and judgement could be passed on both Aeglironion and the Imladris guard who had aided in his plans.

The Woodland king's gaze then landed on the small table beside the bed, faltering when it passed over his crown that sat on top of it. He slowly walked over and hesitated before reaching out and lifting it, inspecting it a bit closer. Some of the red and golden leaves had fallen off of it, though he knew it wouldn't be difficult to mend once he returned to Mirkwood after this trying ordeal was put behind them and Elrond deemed him well enough to travel. It was a more relaxing task he found himself somewhat looking forward to, as well as the familiar routine of being home.

Suddenly, a sense of dizziness came over him, and Thranduil nearly dropped the crown as he reached out and grabbed a hold of the table to keep himself upright. He briefly closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before opening them again in time to see one of the leaves that still clung to the crown break off and drift to the floor. His light eyes widened as he stared down at it, finding he was unable to tear his gaze away from the single leaf until the lightheaded feeling returned. He quickly set the crown back on the table before he turned and took the couple steps to the bed, sinking down onto it with a slightly shaking breath. Elrond had warned him that he would have to be cautious since his body had not nearly recovered from the poison that had been in his system, and he could suffer a relapse if he exerted himself too much. He would still be weak for some time yet.

Though as Thranduil continued to take a few deep breaths in attempt to combat the small dizzy spell and gazed down at the slight tremble in his fingers, the thought that what he had suffered, and what he continued to suffer, may not have been so unjustified crossed his mind once again. As he himself had told Aeglironion earlier that very day, it had been his own word that had banished him, even though Elrond had offered his guidance during that turbulent time. It was still his own final decision. It was true that there had been much to burden his mind then, though he knew that was no excuse to have not given his former guard's case a closer look than he and Elrond had if there was even a slim chance he was innocent. What if Aeglironion was correct in saying that he had been trying to stop the assassination attempt on him all those years ago, not aiding in it?

It may have been too late to make any difference, but if what the cook said was true, the Mirkwood monarch knew that his affliction may have been Fate's way of telling him he had been wrong. Though something he could at least be grateful for was that Elrond hadn't had to suffer along with him, other than all the Elf lord had willingly given of himself as he aided in his recovery. At least Estel had not been with Aeglironion too long and had been returned safe and sound. At least his own child, whose presence at his side had done much to help his recovery, had been unharmed.

With a weary sigh, Thranduil slowly closed his eyes. At least once morning came, he would have the answers he needed so he could finally put his mind at ease, though he was unsure if he would be able to completely forget what Aeglironion had done.

 _"Remember my words, Thranduil..."_

* * *

Legolas slowly reached out and lightly traced his fingertips over the smooth surface of the bow that was sitting at the foot of his bed, his gaze passing over the intricate designs in the slight moonlight that was filtering in through the window. This was the same room that Elrond always prepared for him when he stayed in Imladris, which this time had his father occupying the room right beside it, and it was one he felt comfortable in. Though this time was different, since this time, he couldn't bring himself to sleep. There was too much on his mind to be able to do that.

The prince wrapped his thin fingers around his bow, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he brought the weapon a little closer to him. He thought back to when he, Elladan, and Elrohir had been perched in the trees of the forests of Imladris, watching as Aeglironion attempted to get through Glorfindel and his patrol with Estel. He hadn't had much time to think in that one moment, no more than a couple of seconds, as he drew his arrow and was presented with the perfect shot to incapacitate the traitorous Elf while not bringing harm to the small mortal, and he knew there were not many who would have been comfortable taking it with how close Estel had been to the target. A sliver of difference in his aim or any movement by Aeglironion or the boy could have easily led to a much more devastating outcome, and he was just grateful that hadn't been the case. Estel was safe and unharmed, and Aeglironion was alive and being kept in holding until judgement could be passed on him come morning.

Though as he lightly pulled back on the string, Legolas had to admit to himself that hadn't been the only reason he had risked that shot. Slight guilt chipped away at him when he remembered how Elrohir had thanked him for saving Estel since he had been the only one confident enough to make it, wishing he felt that he was more deserving of his friend's gratitude. Because as much as he loved Estel, and as much as he had wanted him out of harm's way, there was another very potent reason he had taken the shot at Aeglironion.

Unable to sit still, Legolas released his hold on the bow and rose to his feet, beginning to pace the room. He could not forget sitting at his father's side, merely being able to hold his hand and watch as he suffered from the poison that ravaged him, unable to aid him. He could not forget his deathly pale face and lifeless features. He could not forget hearing his gasps for breath or the agonizing moment he believed he had lost the king when he had briefly stopped breathing. For his entire life, Legolas had always seen his father as not only the proud king of Mirkwood, but also a skilled warrior who never hesitated to defend his people from the dangers that surrounded their home. His father had always been there to care for him and to protect him, and though he had longed to do whatever he could for him as he fought the poison in his system, the prince knew Thranduil should not have had to suffer that ailment at the hands of the deceitful Elf. That weakness did not suit him.

And it was that reason why he had held his breath and loosed that arrow in that critical moment.

Legolas paused in his pacing, glancing down at his hands. His eyes narrowed as he thought back to the one time he had spoken with Aeglironion in the dark kitchens when he and Elrohir had gone to search for any lingering remains of the cook's poison that Elrond had needed for the antidote. It was a discussion he had not told his father about, but it was one that continued to weigh heavily on his mind. For though he had only had the chance to interact with Aeglironion closely once, the hatred he harbored for the Mirkwood king could not have been any clearer.

 _"Your father deserves the torment, Legolas."_

The prince curled his hands into light fists to stop the angry tremble in his fingers. That Aeglironion had addressed him by name had surprised him at first, though he knew it should not have due to the amount of time he had spent in Imladris over the years. Though he could not remember the cook clearly before his devastating actions, he was certain they must have come in contact plenty of times before. But it was the way he had said his name that shocked him most, along with how personal the animosity in his tone was. It was as though the hatred Aeglironion had for the king spread to him as well, and he could not deny it was something that left him a bit unsettled. He had seen in the cook's eyes the length in which he was willing to go to ensure that Thranduil suffered the same pain he had for the wrongs he felt his father had committed against him.

But his anger toward the traitorous Elf for what he had done certainly outweighed any of his reservations, and Legolas had to admit that he had a certain amount of pleasure in having been granted the opportunity to avenge his father, even if it was only slight. An arrow wound to his shoulder was not enough, in his mind, since he had brought much more harm to Thranduil, but as frustrating as it was for him, the young monarch knew it would have to be enough as Aeglironion's punishment now rested in hands other than his own.

Then, Legolas' brow furrowed slightly as he glanced over his shoulder at the door of the room. He had the suspicion that he was not the only one awake in the house of Elrond that night, and he could feel that the occupant of the next room was as restless as he was. Making up his mind, he slowly crossed the room and quietly opened the door, instantly spotting a tall, slender, fair-haired figure across the hall from him standing in front of a broad window that overlooked the dark, still valley. With a small smile, the prince stepped out into the hall to join him.

"Should you not be in bed, _Ada_?" he asked quietly.

A beat passed before Thranduil looked over his shoulder to meet his son's gaze, a hint of a challenge in his features as he arched an eyebrow and returned the look. "With what is in store for us on the morrow, could the same not be said for you, _ion-nín_?" he countered lightly.

The prince's smile broadened, but at the same time, his gaze faltered in concern. Though he was relieved that Thranduil's strength was steadily returning, there was still something about the king before him that didn't feel right. There was weariness in his deep, timbre voice, his face was still a bit too ashen, his light eyes were dull, and there was something in his demeanor that made him seem smaller and a bit more frail. This was not the strong Mirkwood monarch, the strong father, he knew.

"I suppose it could, though I am afraid I am unable to sleep," Legolas replied, his smile waning.

Thranduil nodded once, casting his gaze back to the window as a quiet sigh passed through his lips. "You as well as I," he muttered.

When a long moment of silence passed between them, the king glanced over his shoulder once again before he turned to completely face his son. "Is everything all right, _penneth_?" he wondered.

Legolas nodded. It was at that moment he knew his father had been aware of his own restlessness, just as he had known of his. "Aye, _Ada_ ," he told him, though he was unsure if it was the whole truth. "There is just a lot on my mind about what has happened, and what will happen..."

Thranduil's light gaze faltered before he held a ringed hand out to the younger Elf. Legolas looked at it for a moment before slowly approaching the king. "I do not wish for you to concern yourself with Aeglironion, Legolas," he said, a note of authority returning to his tone. "There is no need."

The prince sighed, unable to meet his gaze. "Does this matter not concern me, _Ada_?" he pressed.

"It should not have to." Thranduil tilted his head slightly as his brow furrowed. "Is there something you are not telling me, _ion-nín_?"

Though slightly started by the question, Legolas hoped it didn't show through on his face as he shook his head, still unable to look directly at him. He felt that if he did, his father would know all the conflicting thoughts on his mind, including his confrontation with Aeglironion.

Then, his eyes widened when Thranduil set a light hand on the back of his head and gently brought it to rest on his shoulder. "Do not bear this burden that is not yours to bear, _penneth_ ," he murmured, his voice softening.

The prince tensed for a moment before he closed his eyes and relaxed into the king's embrace. He still may not have told Thranduil everything about the unsettled feeling that stubbornly refused to leave his heart even though he wished he could do what his father said, but he did not want to burden him down more than he already was. He could not do that.

At least when morning came and Aeglironion would face judgement, they would hopefully be able to put everything behind them, and the Elf that had brought Thranduil so much harm would finally receive the punishment he deserved.

* * *

Elrohir smiled slightly as a cup of hot tea was set on the table in front of him. " _Hannon le_ ," he muttered.

Elladan returned the look as he sat down on the stool opposite his twin. "'Tis my pleasure," he said. "I remember when _Naneth_ would always make this for us when we could not sleep. I thought it would help calm you now."

The younger son of Elrond nodded as he raised the cup to his lips and took a cautious sip. This trip to the kitchens has not been planned, though it was by no means unwelcome. He was so exhausted after the events of the past couple of days between Thranduil's life being in danger, two traitorous Elves threatening his father as well, and with Estel being taken that his body was practically begging him to sleep, though his mind was racing so quickly that he wasn't being granted that necessity. It hadn't been too long before Elladan stopped by his room to ask if he wanted to join him in the kitchens, and since he had only been causing himself stress while trying to sleep, he had accepted his brother's offer.

A moment passed before Elladan leaned forward slightly after taking a sip of his own tea. "Do you wish to tell me what is troubling you so, _muindor_?" he asked. Normally, his connection with Elrohir allowed him to be able to have a good idea about what he was feeling, but this time felt different. He had noticed his brother's demeanor shift shortly before they'd gone after Aeglironion to bring Estel home, though all he knew was it had something to do with their father's involvement in all that had happened. "Is it still about _Ada_?"

Elrohir raised his gaze to a pair of identical gray eyes before it faltered as he gave a resigned sigh. "Aye," he answered quietly. "And that he blames himself for Aeglironion's actions against him and Thranduil. I still do not understand why..."

Elladan nodded thoughtfully. He remembered how Elrond had driven himself to the point of exhaustion in order to sustain the Mirkwood monarch with his own healing touch long enough for the antidote to the poison wreaking havoc in his system to be created, and he had simply believed the guilt he placed on himself had been misplaced. His father was someone he would never doubt, though he had to wonder if there was something they hadn't been told that would explain this guilt he bore.

Though no matter what that could be, the older twin also still could not understand what had caused Aeglironion to attempt to murder both Elrond and Thranduil despite his banishment. He had some fond memories of the cook from when he and Elrohir had been young, and he glanced over at the counter where Aeglironion had helped them when they tried to make strawberry pastries for the first time, all laughing as they made a mess in the process. The cheerful sound echoed in his ears, and he knew the older Elf had never seemed bitter toward the lord of Imladris, and that they had always felt comfortable around him in those moments alone with him. It unsettled him to think that even then he had been planning and waiting to assassinate their father, as well as the Mirkwood king when the opportunity was presented to him.

"Do you know why he continues to do so?" Elladan pressed, attempting to shake the memories. He no longer wanted to think about the person the cook had pretended to be for so long. "Surely he and Thranduil have not done anything deserving of his actions. They did what they had to when they agreed to banish Aeglironion."

Elrohir sighed as he rubbed his tired eyes. "He told me that it was because he had been the one to advise Thranduil that banishing him would be the best course of action," he replied. "And if there was a chance that Aeglironion was innocent as he claimed, they should have looked further into the incident. But they did not."

"That is no fault of theirs," Elladan said confidently, taking another sip of his tea. "If _Ada_ and Thranduil believed they were doing the right thing, then I am certain it was the right course. A risk such as that against Thranduil could not afford to be taken."

The younger twin wanted to agree with his brother, in part because it would make things less complicated in his mind as well as absolve Elrond of his guilt, but he could not do so easily. He glanced at the doorway, remembering bittersweetly that Aeglironion would often stand in that same spot and sneak him and Elladan an extra pastry after, or sometimes even before, dinner when they were Elflings. The cook could have threatened or harmed them at any time, as well as the lord of Imladris, since he had had plenty of opportunities to do so, though he had not. There had to be something more to this entire ordeal than what they knew.

"What if... what if he _was_ innocent, Elladan? What if he truly was trying to stop his soldiers from assassinating Thranduil in Greenwood?"

Elladan arched an eyebrow. "I believe Aeglironion's actions are not those of one who is innocent, Elrohir," he told him.

But Elrohir shook his head slightly as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. There was something crucial they were missing, he was certain of it. "He is not the first Elf to be banished from his home," he countered quietly. "Why would he wait so long to attack _Ada_ and Thranduil? Why did he act at all? He could have lived a quiet life here, and no one would have known what he had possibly done, if he truly has done what he was accused of. He had for a long time without us knowing. He must have had another motivation..."

His sentence trailed of when the older twin reached across the table and wrapped his hands around both of his, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Please stop this, _muindor_ , before you go mad," he muttered. He gave Elrohir a small smile when he opened his mouth to respond. "Do not dwell on this. Those we love are safe. We may never understand why Aeglironion has done this and when he chose to do so, or if he was truly wrongfully banished, though we can do nothing to change these things. All we have left to do now is to wait for his judgement to be passed on the morrow, as well as Amonost's." He briefly paused as his gaze faltered, not wanting to think about how one of the guards that he had looked up to as he grew in his own weapon training had also betrayed them by aiding in Aeglironion's revenge plot. "Then we may forget about what has happened."

Once again, Elrohir shook his head slightly. "Are you certain?" he asked.

Elladan's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean, Elrohir?"

Elrohir sighed as he lowered his gaze and released his brother's hands. "I know not," he murmured, mainly to himself. A feeling of dread that he couldn't explain had begun to settle over his heart. There was something about this entire situation that still didn't feel right to him. Aeglironion had patiently waited for a long time before instigating his plan against their father and Thranduil. Would he not have planned more thoroughly? "'Tis probably nothing, _muindor_. As you said, I am dwelling too much on what has happened."

His brow furrowing, Elladan slowly reached for his cup of tea again. "If you are certain..."

"I am," Elrohir assured him, though with the dread that was continuing to pull at him, he wasn't sure if he, or his twin, believed those words. He watched Elladan take another sip of the soothing beverage, choosing not to comment further, before he sighed and reached for his cup, continuing to sip his own tea in silence.

* * *

Elrond sighed to himself as he leaned over and picked up one of the bowls left over from when he and Elrohir had worked to revive Thranduil in one hand, balancing a sleeping Estel on his other hip. There had hardly been a minute where the young mortal had parted from him ever since he had been returned after Aeglironion had taken him, though he did not mind his company in the least. He was simply relieved to have him so close after finding out that he had been taken and that he had been unharmed. After hearing about what Legolas had done to save his foster son, he knew he would have to find a time to properly thank him, though it would likely have to wait until after what was looming ahead of them come morning because of the turbulence he could feel from the younger Elf. The Elf lord would have talked with him himself, but he felt the prince was where he needed to be and would continue to recover once this ordeal was behind them and judgement was passed on the two Elves who had threatened their lives. He also had his own children to tend to.

A small smile appeared on Elrond's face when Estel shifted a little in his arm, burying his face into his shoulder and mumbling incoherently as he continued to sleep. He continued to pick up the rest of the couple bowls before slowly making his way across the room and stepping out into the hallway, making his way in the direction of his own room. Though he had been able to sleep for a short time, it was all he had been able to manage even with how exhausted he was after much of his strength had been depleted in order to sustain Thranduil. It was not something he regretted since his friend still lived after not being certain that he would, and he was just relieved that the king's life was no longer in any immediate danger. Though he had to admit he somewhat envied the small boy he kept close, knowing he would not be able to sleep until Aeglironion and Amonost received just punishments the coming morning. It was something the lord of Imladris hoped would also help Elrohir, for much like Legolas, he could feel that his own son had been deeply troubled by the cook's traitorous actions and how he accepted the blame for them since the younger twin did not understand his reasoning for it. It was something he did not expect him to.

Though as he continued to make his way down the dark hallway, Elrond's step faltered slightly while his brow furrowed as his mind traveled to Aeglironion. He had not once seen him after the other Elf had given him the poisoned glass of water that had been meant to end his life, much like it had nearly ended Thranduil's, nor had he seen Amonost. His weary gray eyes traveled down to the bowls he held, his mind trying to grasp at all the thoughts that were spiraling through it. Despite the guilt he felt about his part in what had caused Aeglironion to target him and Thranduil, and the anger and hatred he knew the cook must have been harboring toward them for the banishment he felt he had not deserved, he still could not understand his actions, at least not completely. It had been so long since he had welcomed Aeglironion into his home when he arrived exhausted and without a place to go, and Elrond was well aware that at any time, he could have harmed him and no one would have known. There had been plenty of times he had been alone with the cook while he aided in his recovery as well as after, and the other Elf had personally prepared many of the meals for both him and his family. And if Amonost had been involved in Aeglironion's plot ever since he had arrived in Rivendell, the guard who had once been a trusted member of their forces also had had plenty of opportunities to harm him, as well as his children. Thranduil and Legolas had also traveled to Imladris more than once over that time, and they had never been in any danger.

But neither of them had given any indication that that had been their intent until now. Elrond shook his head slightly with frustration. Over those years, he had trusted both Aeglironion and Amonost because they had never given him a reason not to. There had been no indication of deceit from either of them. The Elf lord had trusted his wife around them, his advisors, his children. They had been nothing but kind to him and his family.

What had caused that to change? Nothing had happened, as far as he could tell, that had caused Aeglironion's rage toward him and Thranduil to resurface while he had been in Imladris. If he had truly hated them this strongly since his banishment from Greenwood, why had he waited so long to act upon it? What had prevented him from acting sooner? It would have been so simple to target him first since there had been plenty of opportunities to do so, and then to target the Mirkwood king when that chance was granted to him. This could have been finished long before now, and Aeglironion and Amonost could have potentially slipped away undetected.

Though, Elrond reasoned, it was something he would probably never understand. There was some reason why the traitorous Elf had acted when he had, though if he would share that come morning when he faced judgement would remain to be seen. Either way, he looked forward to when this matter could be put to rest.

However, as he opened the door to his room, the Elf lord knew he might not find the peace he sought even once this ordeal was done with. There was something about Aeglironion and what he had done that was not settling well with him other than his actions themselves, he just was unsure what it was. There was something they were missing. He carefully set the bowls down on the low table beneath the window before his gaze moved down to Estel once more when his small hand tightened a bit on his light tunic. He could understand the cook's desire to bring physical harm to himself and Thranduil for deciding his banishment, but he still did not understand why Aeglironion had taken Estel when he had had no part in what had transpired. Other than bringing harm to him in a different way since he had not been able to poison him as he had the king, Elrond was unsure why he had taken the boy. It was an act that, to him, seemed almost desperate. It was something he would have to address when they spoke to their prisoners in the morning.

Elrond sighed quietly, placing his chin on top of Estel's head. The child was safe, Thranduil was alive, their families were all on the path to healing, and their prisoners had been secured. That was all that mattered.

But as the lord of Imladris began to make his way to his bed to set Estel in it, he paused when the boy in his arms began to whimper in his sleep, his closed eyes narrowing in distress. Elrond held him close, running a hand through his wild dark hair. "Shh, _ion-nín_ , it is all right," he murmured soothingly with a small smile. "You are safe. You may rest easy."

However, Estel could not be consoled as he began to move restlessly in his foster father's arms, almost seeming as though he was attempting to break free of his grasp. Elrond's eyes narrowed as he sat down on the bed, attempting to secure him on his lap. "Estel, calm yourself, _ion-nín_..."

Soon, the boy's frantic movements and whimpering stopped, and the Elf lord smiled with relief. But then, Estel raised his head from his shoulder as he sat straight up on his lap, though he kept his tight hold on his tunic. Elrond's brow furrowed slightly as he watched his foster son slowly look around the room before his wandering gaze found his face, and an unsettled feeling came over his heart when he saw terror in those wide, gray eyes.

"Estel, it is all right, _tithen pen_ ," he said, lightly setting a hand on the back of the child's head. "You are safe. It was merely a dream, _ion-nín_. Sleep now."

Though Estel seemed not to hear his words as he simply stared back at him, his eyes still wide and his face pale with fear. A slight tremble started in his fingers. With a sigh, Elrond gently brought the boy's head back to rest against his shoulder, wrapping his other hand around his smaller ones to stop their shaking. "Sleep, _ion-nín_ ," he whispered, closing his eyes as he willed him to feel peace. "It was merely a dream."

It was not long before he felt by Estel's even breathing that he had fallen back asleep, and Elrond slowly looked down at him. It was not unusual for the five-year-old to suffer from dark dreams, for he had had them ever since he had been under his care. Though normally, he would wake screaming or crying and call out for him. The boy's silence had been unnerving, as it was something he was not accustomed to.

"It was merely a dream," Elrond repeated to assure both of them before he left a light kiss on top of Estel's head, holding him close. The child did not stir.

Though the Elf lord knew that rest would be needed for what was awaiting him come morning, it was something that would continue to elude him with how much he had yet to come to terms with with this ordeal. And he also knew the look in his foster son's eyes was one that would continue to haunt him for the rest of the night.

 **Author's Note** : So, there we go! I know there wasn't too much action yet, but I felt everyone's reflections on what happened in the first were important, too, and as I mentioned before, it was really meant to set the tone for what's to come for our favorite characters. I can't promise that updates will be quite as frequent as they were for "Tainted" due to some of the reasons about what got in the way of writing it in the first place and being busy, but I'll do my best! Thanks again for those of you who stuck with me, and I'm sorry that it took so long to get here! And welcome aboard to anyone new! Thanks for reading! See you guys next time!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Sorry for the bit of a delay, guys! Thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows, it means a lot! After being home for a couple days with a small bout of the stomach flu, we're moving ahead with this story. Thanks again, guys! Enjoy!

Elvish:

 _mellon-nín_ – my friend  
 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _ada_ – father  
 _tithen pen_ – little one

 _Chapter 2_

Pale morning light spilled into the valley.

Glorfindel kept his gaze straight ahead as he made his way down the hall, turning the corner that would bring him to the library. The double doors were open as other inhabitants of Imladris went about getting started on their daily business, but he didn't pay them much mind as he made his way past the bookshelves that would bring him to his destination. But he stopped short when he reached the table in the back corner of the room and saw parchment was still spread across the wooden surface, the candle that had been providing light to work by was extinguished, and the quill and now empty ink vial still remained, but Erestor was nowhere to be seen.

His eyes narrowing, the Balrog Slayer took a couple steps back and started to turn around to search for the chief advisor, but he stopped when he bumped into a shorter, slender, black-haired figure. A full ink vial slipped from between the latter's fingers, but Glorfindel, though startled, reached out and caught it in his palm before it could hit the floor.

"Do watch where you are going, will you, Glorfindel?" Erestor demanded, his irritable tone not going unnoticed despite how wide his dark eyes were.

"My humblest apologies, _mellon-nín_ ," Glorfindel said with a slight smile as he offered his hand with the ink vial to him, chuckling when the other Elf snatched it back before walking past him to his table. "You must have been awake for some time. Did you complete what you desired to?" He had a feeling that despite his concern for his friend, mentioning he was well aware that the dark-haired advisor had suffered some sort of anxiety during the night was not the wisest idea since he seemed to be fine aside from his paler face and his gaze, normally sharp, appearing weary.

Erestor let out a frustrated sigh as he set the ink vial on the table before starting to gather up the parchment scattered over it. "Not nearly," he replied, unable to look at the twice-born warrior as he continued to stack his work in a neat pile. His gaze faltered. "I did not sleep much, so I thought I would try to do something that needed to be done. I made some headway, though not nearly as much as I would have liked."

Glorfindel nodded once, attempting to keep the cheerful look on his face. "I did not have any rest myself," he muttered.

Pausing briefly, Erestor cast his gaze to the other Elf, being met with a small smile in return. A look of understanding passed between them before the chief advisor hurriedly finished collecting the tools of his daily tasks. "Since you are joining me, I assume that Elrond requires our presence?"

"I have not yet seen Elrond," Glorfindel admitted, hesitating on his next words slightly. "I simply wished to see how you were faring, and since you were not in your room, I assumed I could find you here."

Erestor's thin fingers tightened their hold on the parchment as he brought the stack closer to his chest for a moment before he looked away from the twice-born warrior. "Do not be concerned for me, Glorfindel," he murmured before he walked past him toward the bookshelves.

Glorfindel lingered behind at the empty table for a moment before he followed after the other advisor, finding that he was waiting for him by the double doors. Any trace of uncertainty was gone from his irritated features. "So you have not seen or heard from Elrond at all?" Erestor wondered as they walked down the hallway in the direction of his room together. "Seems a little unusual, considering the importance of what we must do this morning."

"Not a word," Glorfindel confirmed. "Though, mayhap like us, he had other matters to attend to and could not rest."

"Aye, though also like us, I do believe Elrond would want this matter settled as soon as possible, permitted that Thranduil's health will allow us to," Erestor said. "Have you seen him?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "I am afraid I have not, though Thranduil assured us over dinner last evening that he would be well enough for judgement to be passed on Aeglironion and Amonost," he replied, casting a pointed glance at the chief advisor. When Erestor averted his gaze, the golden-haired warrior sighed quietly. "If I may say, there is something about them that unsettles me."

"What would that be?" Erestor asked as he pushed open the door of his room and stepped inside. "Something aside from their actions, I would assume?"

"Aye." Glorfindel followed the slender Elf into the room, his light gaze immediately landing on the faded black ink that stained the floor as well as the shards of glass and diluted ink in the wash basin. "What has happened here, _mellon-nín_?"

Erestor pulled open the door of his storage closet before glancing over his shoulder to see what his friend was looking at. A nervous flicker appeared in his dark eyes before leaving just as quickly as he shrugged and disappeared inside. "I inadvertently knocked over an ink vial last night," he told him steadily as he started to put his quill and parchment away in their proper places. "Nothing to fret over. Though I shall have to find another way to clean where it spilled on the floor."

The Balrog Slayer remained silent, remembering how he had heard the glass shatter from inside the room the night before when he had felt the anxiety that had threatened to consume the other Elf. The state of mind his friend had been in the past couple of times he had been in this room also came to mind, and Glorfindel took a few cautious steps toward the closet.

However, he was stopped from reaching it when Erestor stepped back out, shutting the door behind him again. "Though you were saying something about Aeglironion and Amonost?"

Glorfindel forced a small smile, able to tell that his friend was trying to change the subject. "Since I was unable to rest last night, I made a few visits to where they are being held," he replied. "When I spoke to the guard, he told me they have been still. Silent. I just feel..."

Erestor sighed. "You feel that they would not be so calm on the eve of their judgement," he muttered. When the twice-born warrior nodded, the chief advisor smiled slightly himself, though he had to admit he also expected some protest, at least on the cook's part. "You worry too much, Glorfindel. I am certain that Aeglironion and Amonost are both fully aware that there is no doubt of their actions or the intent behind them."

"So you feel they would simply accept their fate?" Glorfindel wondered. He paused, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "As much as I wish it to be so, I feel that is not how they feel. There may be something we have not considered..."

"Peace, _mellon-nín_." Erestor reached out and set his hand lightly on Glorfindel's arm. "We are all weary and troubled by what has occurred. It will be beneficial for us all when we are able to put this ordeal behind us. Aeglironion and Amonost will soon face judgement, and they will be unable to dispute their actions." Though even as he said the words, the chief advisor couldn't deny the dread that still lingered from the night before that refused to relent its grip on him.

Glorfindel let out a slow breath before his smile returned, though it was a look that didn't reach his eyes. "I pray that you are right, Erestor."

* * *

Thranduil gazed down at the crown he held in his ringed hands where he stood in front of the window overlooking the valley. He took a deep breath as he carefully situated it on his head, gazing at his reflection to ensure it was straight.

Though no matter what he did, something seemed amiss. His light gaze passed over his pale, weary expression as he attempted to straighten it one more time, realizing that it was a losing battle. The crown was not the problem. It was himself. He had seen it in the eyes of his son the night before, as well as in his own reflection– there was a weakness in his demeanor, one that he was not accustomed to being present. And though it was his own burden to bear, he would not allow it to defeat him. He would remain strong in the task that was now before him.

Setting his shoulders despite the slight tremble in his fingers that lingered from the night, the Mirkwood king turned away from his reflection and left the room, closing the door behind him before he started to make his way down the hall. He knew that he would have to meet with Elrond before judgement could be passed on their prisoners to discuss how they would proceed, as well as to ensure that he was well enough to do so. Though he was determined to pass his friend's inspection so this matter that had lingered for so long could finally be put to rest.

When he turned the corner, Thranduil came to an abrupt halt when he nearly bumped into a tall, fair-haired figure, but a small but fond smile appeared on his face when he gazed back at one of the startled guards who had accompanied him from Mirkwood. "I beg your pardon, _hir-nín_ ," the latter murmured, immediately taking a couple steps back and ensuring his posture was straight. "I was not watching where I was walking."

"Peace, Tidurian, there was no harm done," Thranduil assured him, his smile lingering. "I should have been watching more carefully myself. Unfortunately, my thoughts are elsewhere."

Tidurian, hearing the lightness of his king's tone, returned the look as he allowed his rigid back to relax ever so slightly, though the Mirkwood monarch could not prevent the somber touch to his gaze. The guard, though younger than many of his soldiers, had been in his service since he had come of age, though he had known him for much longer. Tidurian had been one of, in the king's view, too many young Elflings who had a father taken from them in the Last Alliance, and his mother, who had been weak ever since she had borne him, had faded and succumbed to a terrible grief and terror since most of her family had been called to fight and were feared to not return. Since he was much too young to be left alone, Helinniel, Thranduil's late wife, had arranged for him to be looked after by Beriana, her mother and the realm's chief healer, while they waited to be certain about his father's return. Tidurian had always been grateful to the monarchs for their actions and wished to repay them to the best of his abilities, including serving in the king's guard and becoming a companion to Legolas after he was born and a mentor of sorts as the prince grew. Besides always having been loyal in his service to him, Thranduil considered him a friend to his family.

"Are you all right, _hir-nín_?"

The question brought Thranduil out of his thoughts, and he gave the guard another small smile. "Aye, I will be," he answered quietly. "There is no need to worry for me."

Tidurian returned the look, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Forgive me for saying so, you just do not appear... well," he muttered. Though hesitant to say what he wished to, he hurriedly continued before he could stop himself. "We were all concerned for you. Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel did not tell us much about your condition, or who it was who attacked you..."

His sentence trailed off when Thranduil raised a hand with a chuckle. "I appreciate hearing my guards are concerned for me," he said. "Though I will admit my condition was grievous, I can also assure you that with Elrond's aid, I will recover. It will just take some time."

"That is good to hear, _hir-nín_ ," Tidurian replied, though his light gaze faltered. "Is it true that he hailed from Greenwood? The one who did this to you?"

The Woodland king sighed as he gave a brief nod. He was not surprised that his guards had been at least somewhat informed about what had occurred. "At one time," he told him quietly. "Long ago. Though that is not a matter you need concern yourself with, _penneth_. He was apprehended, and judgment shall soon be passed."

Tidurian nodded once before he looked back at Thranduil in surprise when the Mirkwood monarch set his hand lightly on the side of his head before removing it. "Do not fret," the latter added. "This matter shall be resolved soon, and once Lord Elrond deems me fit for travel, we will be able to return home."

"I look forward to it, _hir-nín_."

"As do I." A small smile returned to Thranduil's face. "Why do you not attend the morning meal? I am certain it shall be served soon."

Tidurian smiled slightly as well. "I believe I shall," he muttered. "Will you not join us?"

"I must speak with Lord Elrond first, I am afraid," Thranduil said. "Then I believe I will."

The guard bowed his head in respect, the king dipping his own in response, before he looked back at him, his smile broadening. "It lifts my heart to see you faring better, _hir-nín_."

" _Hannon le_." Thranduil watched as Tidurian continued walking down the hall in the direction of the kitchens until he was out of sight before he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall behind him, setting a hand over his stomach. He took a few deep breaths, simply grateful that he had been able to manage the dizziness that had threatened to overtake him while in the presence of his guard, not wishing to worry him further. His slightly trembling fingers curled into a light fist, and he inwardly cursed this weakness that lingered in him.

Though in the back of his mind, he knew it was his to bear.

A few moments passed before Thranduil felt the strength to continue on, and he opened his eyes and took a few tentative steps away from the wall before continuing toward his destination, also grateful that this latest spell had not happened while he was under the watchful eye of Elrond. He did not wish to delay the proceedings against Aeglironion and Amonost any more than necessary since once that was behind them, healing could fully begin.

"King Thranduil."

Not expecting the unfamiliar voice, Thranduil stopped and glanced down an adjacent hallway, seeing a brown-haired Imladris guard who was stationed by a few locked doors was walking toward him. His light gaze lingered on the door at the end of the hall, knowing who was being kept behind it.

"I am glad you passed this way, _hir-nín_ ," the guard continued as he approached. "Aeglironion wishes to speak with you."

The Mirkwood monarch was instantly on alert as his eyes narrowed slightly. "What would he wish to speak with me about?" he asked, his deep tone wavering ever so slightly before regaining its formality. "Lord Elrond and I will see him to pass judgement shortly."

"I am aware, _hir-nín_ , though he claims it is important," the guard answered. "He would not tell me what he wished to say, for it is meant for you only, but he did say that it may aid in your decision concerning his judgement."

Thranduil looked past the guard at the locked door where Aeglironion was awaiting his fate once again, his first instinct to ignore the request. Though as he thought more on it, it was a chance his former guard had not been given when he faced judgement while in Greenwood so long before when he rightfully should have been able to plead his case, and it was part of the reason why they found themselves in the same situation now. His hard gaze softened.

"Very well," he conceded quietly. "I will allow him a few moments."

The guard bowed before he gestured to the door. "I will be right outside should you require my aid, _hir-nín_."

Thranduil nodded briefly before he sighed, slowly beginning to make his way down the hall to where Aeglironion was waiting for him. The guard watched after him, a slight smirk appearing at the corner of his lips as he began to follow the king.

* * *

"Did you sleep well, _ion-nín_?"

Estel looked up at Elrond as they walked down the hall, his small hand keeping a secure hold on the Elf lord's larger one, and nodded. "Aye, _Ada_ ," he said with a smile. "Swept wewl."

Elrond smiled in return. "Good." Though the look soon faded as his brow furrowed, unable to forget the young mortal's peculiar and unsettling behavior the night before when something in his sleep had disturbed him and had caused him to act as though in some sort of trance. He could still see the terror in his wide, gray, unseeing eyes. Though Estel appeared not to have been at all perturbed when he awoke that morning or during the time he had helped him get dressed and freshened up.

"You did not have any dark dreams?"

"No, _Ada_. I had no bad dweams," Estel answered as he looked up at him curiously. "Why?"

Not wanting to worry the child, the Elf lord simply shook his head as his smile returned. "There is no reason, _tithen pen_ ," he told him. "I am glad to hear your sleep was untroubled." This explanation was enough for Estel, who began to hum cheerfully to himself as they continued to make their way toward the kitchens. Though he was relieved that the five-year-old wasn't haunted by what had awoken him in the night, he also could not deny he was a bit disconcerted that he did not remember.

The feeling of dread that had settled over his heart the night before still lingered, and it was only growing stronger as the morning sun continued to rise over the valley.

"I'm hungwy, _Ada_."

Despite himself, the small mortal's words brought a slight smile back to Elrond's face as they carefully started down a set of stairs. "That is good, Estel, since the morning meal will be served soon," he said. And once they reached the kitchens, the child would still be able to sit with him while he discussed how to proceed in their task with Thranduil, Glorfindel, and Erestor. Though Estel would not be able to join him and the Mirkwood king while they passed their judgement on Aeglironion and Amonost, and though it would hopefully only be a short time, he was unsure how the boy would handle being parted from him since he had not been able to be as of yet.

But then, the Elf lord was brought out of his thoughts when he spotted two identical dark-haired figures speaking together in front of the doors of the kitchens, and his smile broadened. Beside him, Estel sped his pace a little in excitement.

"Ewwadan!" he called when they drew nearer, holding his free hand out toward them while not relenting the hold his other one had on his foster father's hand. "Ewohir!"

The twin sons of Elrond stopped whatever they had been discussing, which their father could feel to be some sort of disagreement, but matching smiles appeared on their fair faces when they saw them. "Hello, Estel," Elladan greeted cheerfully as he took a couple steps forward to meet the young child, dropping to a knee and accepting his tight, one-armed hug before lightly kissing his cheek. "You slept well, I hope."

Estel nodded, his grin lingering as Elrohir embraced him next. "Swept wewl," he told them. "You swept wewl, too?"

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a brief look, causing Elrond to arch an eyebrow when he clearly read in it that they had not slept at all, much like he had not. "Aye, Estel, we slept well, too," the younger twin replied, keeping his tone steady.

"That is good to hear, _ion-nín_ ," the Elf lord stated, and both of his sons lowered their gazes, knowing that he did not believe them. He sighed as he embraced Elladan and then Elrohir with his free arm, though his hand lingered on the back of the latter's head for a moment longer.

"I believe I have told you to not allow this matter with Aeglironion to burden your mind, _penneth_ ," he murmured before he lowered his hand and leaned back to give him a small smile.

Elrohir's gaze faltered as he nodded, still not quite able to meet the Elf lord's knowing gray eyes. "I know..." He then forced his eyes to meet his gaze, keeping his voice low so his young foster brother wouldn't hear him. "But Elladan and I were just discussing how something involving him does not feel right. I know not what it is, but there is something that we might have overlooked..."

His sentence trailed off when Elrond shook his head briefly. "Please, _penneth_ , allow Thranduil and myself to worry about any oversights we may have had," he said, his eyes as imploring as his tone. "That burden is not yours or your brother's, Elrohir."

Knowing that any more debate would be futile, Elrohir once again lowered his gaze as he nodded. Pleased, the lord of Imladris looked down on Estel when he began to lightly swing his arm. "Aye, _tithen pen_?"

However, no words were needed by the five-year-old when his stomach suddenly growled, causing Elladan to laugh. "I believe someone desires his morning meal." Estel grinned up at him, and the older twin to smiled in return.

Elrohir pushed open one of the doors that led into the kitchen, holding it so his father and brothers could walk inside first, but they were stopped when a familiar fair-haired figure came around the corner at a quick pace, his brow furrowed in concern. Elrond's eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed back at him. "Legolas, is everything all right, _penneth_?" he wondered as the prince drew nearer.

Estel quickly looked up at the sound of his friend's name, and his gray eyes brightened as he held his free hand out to him. "Legowas!" he exclaimed.

The excited high-pitched voice brought a small smile to Legolas' face as he stopped next to them, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, which were still troubled. "Hello, Estel," he muttered, reaching out his slender fingers and allowing the child to grasp onto them. He then cast his gaze to the Elf lord. "Have you seen my father?"

Elrond arched an eyebrow as he shook his head once. "I believed he would have been with you," he said before glancing at the twins. "Have either of you seen Thranduil?"

Both Elladan and Elrohir shook their heads in answer. "Nay, I joined Elladan before we cam here," the latter replied before he also looked at the prince. "We also believed you would both join us to discuss these matters."

Legolas sighed, once again attempting a small smile as Estel tightened his small hand around his. "I came here first to see if he was already here with you," he told them, turning back to Elrond. "When I saw he was not, I went to his room, but he was not there, either. So I returned here."

The lord of Imladris worried his bottom lip between his teeth. The dread in his heart flared. "I did wish to check on your father before we proceeded," he murmured thoughtfully, mainly to himself. "Mayhap I should have searched for him first."

"But where would Thranduil go, _Ada_?" Elladan asked, though he knew even then that it was a question no one present would be able to answer.

Estel looked from his foster family to his friend, able to feel the somber air that passed between them. "Is Thwan'dil awl right?"

The concern on the prince's fair face was clear, but Elrond tightened his hold on the young boy's hand, causing him to turn to him. "Aye, Thranduil is all right, _ion-nín_ ," he assured him. As a smile slowly spread across Estel's face, the Elf lord felt his own heart sink.

"Is something wrong with Thranduil?"

Elrond looked up in time to see his two advisors approach, matching worried expressions on their faces. "Was he not well enough to handle passing judgement?" Glorfindel continued, having spoken first.

"We are unsure, for we have not yet seen him," Elrond told them. "His whereabouts are unknown."

The twice-born warrior glanced at Legolas, seeing the anxious glint in his eyes, before he turned back to the other Elf lord. "That is peculiar, do you not think?"

Elrond nodded once, his gray eyes moving to his chief advisor when he noticed his jaw had set firmly. "Erestor?" he prompted.

Hesitance crossed Erestor's paler features, though when he saw that all eyes were on him, he gave a resigned sigh. "Yesterday morning, I discovered Thranduil where Aeglironion is being held," he admitted quietly. "What they were discussing, I am not certain."

"You do not believe that Thranduil would be there again," Elladan said, sharing a concerned look with his twin. Glorfindel appeared surprised by this information while Elrond's features remained stoic, and confusion and worry were struggling for preeminence on Legolas' face.

Before Erestor could respond, everyone's attention was diverted to Estel, who had shrunk back from the slender advisor in fear while still maintaining his hold on both Elrond and the prince's hands. "No, Thwan'dil no go thewe..."

Elrond glanced at Legolas, who appeared as concerned about the small mortal's actions as he was, before they both crouched down in effort to try to soothe him. "Peace, _tithen pen_..."

But Estel shook his head fervently, his wide gray eyes full of fear as he looked from Elrond to Legolas and back. "No. He huwt Thwan'dil," he mumbled.

"He did, Estel," Legolas said before a small smile appeared on his face as he tried to further calm the boy while Elladan and Elrohir took a few steps closer to their foster brother. "Though your _Ada_ was able to help him. He will recover."

However, the five-year-old could not be quieted as he turned his full attention to his foster father. "He huwt Thwan'dil," he repeated. "And you, _Ada_. And Legowas. Ewwadan. Ewohir. Gwowfy. Ewestor..."

Elrond looked back at the small mortal, once again reminded of the night before when something had disturbed him in his sleep, causing him to wake in an almost trance-like state. Was that what he had seen?

Trying to push the thought down and appear calm in front of Estel, the Elf lord forced a small smile as he reached out with his free hand and set it lightly on the back of the child's head before bringing it to rest on his shoulder. "Do not worry, _tithen pen_ ," he murmured, softly pressing his lips to the top of his dark hair. "Everything is all right."

Though as he looked over Estel's head at Legolas, Elrond could clearly see the worry for his father resurface in his features, and he sighed quietly as he closed his eyes. Though he was unsure why he would be there, perhaps the place to search for Thranduil would indeed be the one where the source of his dread was coming from.

 _Mellon-nín_...

* * *

Thranduil stopped in front of the door where Aeglironion was being held, taking a deep breath as the Imladris guard stepped past him and slid the lock aside. "Remember, should you require my aid, I shall be right here, _hir-nín_ ," the latter said.

The king nodded briefly. " _Hannon le_ ," he replied, watching as the guard then pulled the door open. A moment passed before he slowly stepped inside.

At first glance, the room appeared to be empty. Thranduil narrowed his eyes as his light gaze quickly moved around the small space, the feeling that something was amiss returning with a vengeance.

But then, a quiet chuckle reached his ears, and Aeglironion stepped out of a shadowed corner near the window, a smirk tugging up the corner of his lips. His features were not as pale as the morning before, his posture was not so defeated, and there was confidence in his demeanor that did not suit one who would soon be facing judgement.

Something had changed since the morning before, something substantial. And Thranduil could not quell the feeling that he was somehow at a disadvantage.

"Well, well. 'Tis good of you to finally join me, Thranduil," his former guard sneered, his smirk broadening as a gleam appeared in his light eyes. "I have been waiting for you."

"What do you..." Thranduil began, but he was interrupted when the door suddenly closed behind him. He quickly spun around just as the tell-tale sound of the lock being slid back into place echoed around the room. His heart leapt as he reached out and attempted to push open the door despite knowing what result he would be met with, and dread filled him when it was confirmed.

He was locked in.

 **Author's Note** : So, there's the first cliffhanger for you guys! I know there were a bunch in the first story, lol. What does Aeglironion have in mind for Thranduil and the rest of our favorite characters? We'll have to keep on going to find out! On another small note, the characters of Helinniel and Beriana were both introduced and found their place in my little Thranduil universe of sorts in my story "Ripple Effect," will appear in that sequel "Riptide," and, primarily Helinniel, will make a couple appearances in this story, as well. All right, thanks for reading, and I'll get the next chapter up as soon as possible! See you guys next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Sorry this chapter took a bit. I've been swamped both with work and with some personal matters, both of which have made time to write a bit difficult. But, here we are! Thank you guys for your reviews, favorites, and follows, they all mean a lot! And I'm glad you guys are enjoying this story! So, after that cliffhanger, what's going to happen with Thranduil and Aeglironion? Let's find out! Enjoy!

Elvish:

 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _naneth_ – mother  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _iel-nín_ – my daughter  
 _ada_ – father  
 _mellon-nín_ – my friend  
 _tithen pen_ – little one

 _Chapter 3_

Thranduil attempted to push on the door one last time, though he knew it would do no good, before he turned to face Aeglironion. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, ensuring his tone retained its authority despite how he could not quell the dread that had settled over his heart.

Aeglironion, who was still regarding him with a smirk, gave him a look of feigned innocence. "I cannot say I know what you are speaking of, Thranduil."

The king steadily met his arrogant gaze. "You wished to speak with me before your judgement?" he asked a bit more calmly.

Amusement flickered in Aeglironion's eyes as he took a few steps closer, though he could not hide his slight wince when he moved his still wrapped left shoulder. Thranduil felt a small but definite sense of pride in knowing that it had been his son who had taken it upon himself to stop the traitorous cook from escaping with Estel. "Aye, that is why I requested to see you," he answered quietly.

"And I obliged," Thranduil said, a note of frustration in his tone. "Was deceiving me and locking me in this cell necessary to speak with me?"

The smirk returned to Aeglironion's face. "Aye, as I knew you would. I had a feeling that some misplaced sense of nobility, and perhaps some guilt that you had not done this before, would bring you to me," he replied. "But, Thranduil, I could not have our discussion interrupted."

The Mirkwood monarch glanced over his shoulder at the door. He could not deny that it unsettled him slightly that Aeglironion seemed to know exactly what had caused him to agree to see him, but it was something he could not show him. "I would assume the guard who brought me here is not one of Lord Elrond's," he muttered, wanting to keep the prisoner speaking for as long as possible.

Aeglironion arched an eyebrow before a quiet chuckle escaped from him. "I suppose it should not surprise me that you do not recognize him. Anessen was a soldier under my command for many a year before you banished him for plotting an assassination attempt against you." He paused, his light eyes gleaming when he saw the king's confident expression waver. "Ah, so you do remember now. Yes, Thranduil, he was one of three who truly did not desire to see you ascend to the throne your noble father had. He arrived in Rivendell a couple days ago, while you were suffering from your affliction, to be near in the event of my apprehension. It is a curious thing, is it not, that one of my soldiers I at one time had attempted to prevent bringing harm to you is now aiding in my escape?"

"I would assume the other two are also aiding you in some way?" Thranduil posed.

Though he only received a nonchalant shrug in return, the look in Aeglironion's eyes lingered, telling a very different story. "They are nearby," he murmured.

The dread tightened its hold on Thranduil's heart to a point where it was almost painful. Now that he was confronted with what he had done in his past, he knew it should not have surprised him that Aeglironion would have kept close ties with the other guards in his forces he had banished on the count of plotting an assassination attempt. Though Aeglironion had always maintained his innocence, unlike the other three who had boasted about their plans, they were connected by a shared hatred for him.

A sudden noise from the hallway outside brought him out of his thoughts. Thranduil started to turn, but he paused when the cool edge of a dagger rested lightly against his throat. He quickly moved his light eyes back to Aeglironion, whose smirk had broadened as he gazed back at him darkly over the weapon he had kept hidden. "I would not do that if I were you, Thranduil. We are not finished speaking."

The king stiffened, attempting to keep as still as possible while ensuring his gaze remained steady. This was proving more difficult than he imagined, for he was starting to feel a bit lightheaded once more. "Was this why you brought me here, Aeglironion?" he wondered, his tone slightly weary despite the anger that was still clear. How he wished he had his own sword with him. "To kill me in this manner when your poison failed?"

However, Aeglironion simply laughed. "Kill you? Oh, no, Thranduil, that is not my intent. At least, not yet. It would be a shame for you to die in this small room with none but me to see you. Besides, you have not suffered nearly enough." His smirk broadened. "You remember my words, do you not?"

 _"You know not what you, and Elrond, have taken from me, Thranduil, though by the Valar, one day you will."_

Aeglironion's eyes gleamed when he saw Thranduil's strong gaze waver. "Ah, so you do. Good. Because only then will we allow you the mercy that death will bring you."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed dangerously as he gazed back at his former guard. "How dare you..." he began, though his own threat tapered off when the dizziness returned, and he set one ringed hand lightly on the wall behind him while his other lingered near his stomach. His strength was leaving him.

Aeglironion gazed at him with a look of feigned concern. "Why, _hir-nín_ , you do not appear well," he said. "What a shame. It does not appear that my poison entirely failed after all, does it?"

The Mirkwood monarch looked back at him with fury in his eyes, mustering all the strength he could to lean closer to the other fair-haired Elf despite the weapon still at his neck. "You will not escape your judgement," he murmured, his tone, though weaker, not lacking in its authority. "Not after all you have done."

"And I suppose you believe you will be the one to stop me." Though he appeared amused, there was something else in Aeglironion's words. Then, in one quick motion, he reached out with his free hand and grasped onto Thranduil's hair, causing his crown to slip from his fair head and fall to the floor, before roughly yanking him closer still. The king briefly winced as the blade lightly sliced his skin before glaring back at his former guard. "I do not believe you will be able to, Thranduil, as much as you may desire to. 'Tis clear to me your strength is waning. Though I must say, I have not yet gotten to what I have truly desired to tell you."

"What would that be?" Thranduil asked stiffly, his eyes narrowing further.

Another broad smirk spread across Aeglironion's face. "There is someone who much desires to see you," he answered quietly. "Someone who has not seen you in far too long. Though I am certain you will remember him." When he saw the curiosity in the king's eyes despite the rage in his features, his smirk widened as he leaned forward to close the gap between them and whispered in his ear.

Thranduil heard the name the prisoner said, but it took a moment for it to register before his breath caught in his chest as his eyes widened in horror. Aeglironion backed away from him again, his eyes gleaming when he saw the look on the king's face as well as the color that was draining from it. "He expects to see you soon, Thranduil," he finished quietly. "That is the message he wished for me to pass along to you."

Another sound came from out in the hall then, through Thranduil hardly acknowledged it as his mind frantically attempted to process what he had just heard. It could not be possible...

Aeglironion chuckled. "I will now take my leave," he said, lowering the dagger as he began to step around the other Elf. "I will also see you soon, _hir-nín_."

These words brought Thranduil out of his racing thoughts, and as Aeglironion approached the door, he quickly reached out and attempted to grab the weapon since his former guard was distracted to stop him from escaping. However, with his strength depleted, he was not quick enough, and Aeglironion threw his arm out, the blade of the dagger slashing across the king's cheek. Thranduil took a couple steps back, stunned, before the hilt of the weapon connected solidly with his temple, causing his already unsteady legs to give out beneath him as he crumpled to the floor.

Aeglironion dropped to one knee beside him, his smirk returning as he reached out and brushed some light hair out of the Mirkwood monarch's pale face, causing his unfocused eyes to find his face. "Until I see you again, Thranduil," he murmured before rising to his feet and rapidly knocking on the door three times.

Thranduil could only watch as it opened a couple seconds later, cringing as he still reached out toward the other Elf's foot to try to stop him before he stepped out of the room. He let out a shaky breath as he lowered his heavy head to the cold ground, unable to fight off the darkness at the edge of his vision any longer just as the door slammed closed once more.

* * *

 _Thranduil hurried down the dark hallway, not caring if any of the palace guards rushing back and forth saw him in his anxious state. The sword on his hip was stained with blood; a similar crimson stain soaked the left shoulder of his tunic, though the pain radiating from the laceration hardly registered. There was only one thought on his mind._

 _The prince ran around the corner, seeing the door of the room he had to get to was closed. Though this did not deter his quick pace, and he only paused when he reached the door itself. Even though every fiber of his being desired for him to simply barge inside, he knew he could not. Instead, his anxiety rising, he straightened his posture and quietly knocked._

 _A moment later, the door opened to reveal a fair-haired healer with comely features he knew well. "_ Hir-nín _..."_

 _"Helinniel," Thranduil murmured, taking a step forward as he tried to look around her. Though his view of the bed that belonged to the room's occupant was obscured by a few more healers. "How does he fare?"_

 _A hint of a smile appeared on Helinniel's face as she reached out and took one of his hands in hers. "He is resting," she told him just as quietly. "_ Naneth _said he was brought to her in time. The poison has been extracted, and he will recover."_

 _Thranduil let out a sigh of relief before he returned the look, tightening his hold on her slender fingers ever so slightly. "May I see him?" he asked._

 _Helinniel appeared slightly hesitant, though before she could say anything, her pale blue eyes widened in concern when they landed on his shoulder. "_ Hir-nín _, you are hurt!"_

 _"Peace, Helinniel, 'tis not serious," Thranduil said, though even as the words passed through his lips, he couldn't keep from cringing._

 _"Come inside," Helinniel muttered, opening the door a bit wider. "You may see him while I tend to your shoulder." She then glanced behind her. "Prince Thranduil is here to see him,_ Naneth _."_

 _Another fair-haired Elven woman finished setting a wet cloth on the occupant of the bed's forehead before she straightened and turned toward the door. Her light gaze passed over the pair before nodding to the couple other healers still lingering around her. They each bowed their heads in respect to her before repeating the gesture to Thranduil and leaving the room._

 _"Of course you may come see him,_ penneth _," she told him. "It will likely do him well to have you near him."_

 _"_ Hannon le _, Beriana." Thranduil stepped further into the room, lowering himself into a chair beside the bed that the palace's chief healer gestured to. He then took a deep breath as he gazed upon his father._

 _Oropher was lying still against his pillows, appearing as though he were peacefully sleeping if it were not for his closed eyes and his features that were too ashen and void of expression. The only hint of movement from the king was the ever so slight, uneven rise and fall of his chest._

 _This was not his father, the proud ruler and strong warrior he knew. This weakness did not suit him. Thranduil reached out with his uninjured arm and wrapped his hand around Oropher's cold one, lightly tracing his blood-stained thumb over the contours of the king's motionless fingers._

 _Then, he glanced behind him when a gentle hand landed on his back, seeing Beriana was gazing down at his wounded shoulder with concern, as well as a hint of disapproval. "What happened_ , penneth _?" she asked. "Did you obtain this while detaining him?"_

 _"Aye, though I dare say that he was more unfortunate than I," Thranduil answered, his deep voice wavering slightly. "Aearion and a few of my father's soldiers are with him now, though they have requested for me to send a healer. My shoulder is no cause for concern." He paused before turning his gaze to the chief healer's daughter. "Helinniel has told me she will tend to it."_

 _Beriana gazed at his crimson-soaked tunic before her knowing gaze passed between the pair. "You seem to be fortunate," she muttered. "It does not appear to be too serious. I am certain she will do fine." A smile slowly spread across her ageless features as she affectionately brushed the prince's hair away from the injury before she turned to her daughter and set her hand on the side of her head. "I will lend my services to our prisoner since they have been requested. Alert me of any changes in the king's condition immediately,_ iel-nín _."_

 _Helinniel lowered her head respectfully. "I will,_ Naneth _," she assured her._

 _Once the older healer stepped out of the room, a small but shy smile appeared at the corner of Helinniel's lips as she stepped around Thranduil to reach Oropher's bedside. "She is expecting an announcement from us at any time now," she stated quietly, ensuring the king was still resting comfortably and that the water soaking the cloth on his forehead was still cool._

 _Thranduil arched an eyebrow, recognizing the light comment was meant to ease his burdened heart even just a little. "Is she now?" Despite the worry he had for his father and despite how his shoulder was beginning to throb painfully, a similar look appeared on his own face. "Though the thought of it, I must admit, is a bit intimidating."_

 _A broad grin spread across Helinniel's face as she chuckled and glanced over her shoulder at the prince. "You are intimidated by_ Naneth _? But you have known her since you were an Elfling!"_

 _"Aye, but this is one conversation we have never had," Thranduil countered. He watched as she returned to looking over Oropher, his fond smile lingering. "I am almost certain my father feels similarly. Mayhap it will be soon." But then, he winced and hunched forward slightly when the throbbing in his shoulder increased._

 _Helinniel quickly turned to him, her brow furrowed in concern. "Let me see your shoulder," she said with some authority._

 _Thranduil opened his eyes to meet her gaze before sighing as he reluctantly released his hold on his father's hand and began to loosen his tunic. Helinniel averted her gaze while she waited, only looking back at him when he lowered the left sleeve enough to expose his injured shoulder. She took a few steps closer to get a better look at the stab wound left behind by the same hand that had nearly killed his father, her light eyes faltering._

 _"'Tis deep..." she told him, lightly tracing her fingertips across the skin around the laceration. She quickly turned and grabbed a second bowl filled with water as well as a cloth from her supplies._

 _Thranduil sat still as Helinniel worked to clean the wound while trying to staunch the blood flow, and though his entire shoulder was burning, his features remained stoic as he kept his gaze on Oropher. He searched his father's, his king's, still deathly pale face for any sign of life, though he did not find what he sought. He was grateful that Helinniel and Beriana had both told him that Oropher would recover since he did not appear well, his sporadic breathing the only indication that he still lived. Though at least there was that small comfort._

 _The prince's eyes then moved to the small table beside the bed where the equipment the healers had used to extract the poison was kept, noticing his father's crown as well as the small dart that had struck him were both sitting on it as well. He reached out with his right hand and picked up the latter, holding it between his fingers as he brought it closer to his eyes to inspect it better. It appeared innocent enough, though what it contained had proven to be deadly._

 _"Please be cautious, Thranduil," Helinniel said, noticing he was handling the dart that had struck and poisoned Oropher not long before out of the corner of her eye. "I know not how potent the poison still is."_

 _Sighing, Thranduil carefully set the dart back down on the table, keeping it as far from the king's crown as he could. "I just do not understand," he muttered, mainly to himself. "I do not understand why he would do this. He has been in my father's guard for so long. Why would he attempt to murder him? My father trusted him, Helinniel."_

 _The healer paused when he brought her into his musings, keeping the cloth in place over his shoulder before she turned back to the table of supplies to get what she needed to start stitching the wound as well as wrappings and some athelas to help fight any infection. "I know he did," she replied quietly, hints of distress in her tone. "We all did. Erynion would always tell me how much respect he had for him when he gave advice and guidance when you were both receiving your weapon training."_

 _Thranduil nodded, though his heart really wasn't in the action. Helinniel's older brother was close to him in age and a solider just as he was, having gone through the training to earn their plaits together. They had both known the guard who had betrayed Oropher well, and much like the king, they had trusted him._

 _"Why would he do this?" Thranduil repeated in nearly a whisper._

 _Helinniel finished wrapping up the prince's shoulder after the wound had been stitched and athelas applied, tying the bandages securely but not too tightly. She then carefully set her hands on his toned shoulders and lightly rubbed them. "You are tense, Thranduil," she said, though she could feel his body relax a little under her touch. A weary sigh escaped from her. "I know not why he did this to your father. Mayhap we may never know. Though no one suspected him to be capable of such deceit and treachery."_

 _Thranduil passed a stressed hand over his face and closed his eyes. "When my father recovers, judgement will have to be passed," he said, anger evident in his quiet voice. "Banishment will be showing him mercy."_

 _"Do not think of that just now," Helinniel told him, kneading the tight muscles in his neck. "Concentrate on being here for your father. You also must care for yourself. Do not overwork your shoulder. If you do, your wound will open again, and I do not want to have to tend it a second time."_

 _A slight smile appeared on Thranduil's face as he opened his eyes and looked back up at her. "_ Hannon le _."_

 _Helinniel smiled in return as she brushed some stray strands of his fair hair back from his face before he turned his attention back to Oropher, leaning closer to his still form to make sure he was comfortable as he reached out and grasped his hand once more. Her gaze landed on the blood that had dried on his hands. "What happened, Thranduil?" she asked quietly. "What happened when you detained him?"_

 _Thranduil didn't respond for a long moment, simply continuing to gaze at Oropher and keeping his hand secure around his. Finally, his shoulders slumped forward a bit as he glanced back at her. "After my father was struck, I pursued him alone while Aearion stayed behind to make sure he did not follow since the poison's effects started to make themselves evident somewhat quickly," he explained. A slight smile appeared on his face at the thought of Oropher's most trusted advisor as well as his childhood friend, grateful that he had been with them when the guard's treachery had occurred. If anyone could have challenged the authority of the king and asserted a sense of his own without repercussions, it was Aearion. But then, the look waned. "He did not get far. I actually believe he was waiting for me or had some inkling that I would follow. He caught me off guard, which is how he gave me this." He paused, gesturing to his wrapped shoulder before continuing. "He was taunting me about both my father and I, telling me we do not deserve the crowns we were given, though I know not what ill he believes my father has committed against him. But he made it clear he meant for me to die, as well. I must admit, I was not thinking clearly, and I allowed my fury to guide my blade. And..."_

 _A moment passed after the prince's sentence trailed off. Helinniel sighed as she wrapped her hand around his free one and squeezed it reassuringly. "And what?" she pressed._

 _Thranduil briefly glanced down at their joined hands before looking away again. "My blade caught him across his face," he murmured, his gaze faltering. "And his left eye. 'Tis why your mother was needed to tend to him. He may be blind in that eye."_

 _Helinniel softly started to rub circles into his back with her free hand as her light gaze flitted to his bloodstained blade. "You did what you had to, Thranduil," she told him. "He still lives. And he has been detained, and judgement will be passed."_

 _"Aye, because Aeglironion and his soldiers arrived shortly after." Thranduil finally met her gaze. "I did not want to stop after that strike," he whispered. "In my rage, I desired to bring more harm to him..."_

 _"But you did not," Helinniel said, kneeling beside the chair and resting her hand on his cheek. "Do not place guilt on yourself when it is not needed. You apprehended him, and justice will be had for your father. You have done what is right."_

 _Thranduil sighed as he closed his eyes and lightly leaned into her hand. "I suppose you are right," he conceded._

 _Helinniel smiled. "I know I am," she muttered._

 _The prince chuckled as he opened his eyes and looked back at her, mirroring the look before he leaned closer to her and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. But then, his eyes widened as he turned back to the bed when he felt Oropher stir a bit under his hand. He stood from the chair with the healer next to him to be ready if she were needed, reaching out with his other hand and setting it on the king's shoulder._

 _"_ Ada _?" Thranduil searched his ashen face anxiously, watching as his brow furrowed beneath the damp cloth as he moved toward consciousness. "I am here,_ Ada _."_

 _A long moment passed where nothing more happened. Then, the weary eyes of his father slowly opened._

 _"_ Ada _... I am here,_ Ada _..."_

A quiet groan passed through Thranduil's lips as his eyes slowly opened, and he winced as a sharp pain shot through his temple.

" _Ada_?"

At the anxious voice, the Woodland king opened his eyes again, squinting a bit against the morning sunlight that was filtering into the room as he looked around. He realized he was lying in the bed of the room he was using while in Imladris, not on the hard, cold floor of the room where Aeglironion had been held. But how he had gotten there, he wasn't sure.

A hand landed on his arm, and Thranduil cast his gaze upward to find Legolas looking back at him with concern in his wide blue eyes. "Are you all right, _Ada_?" the latter asked immediately.

"Do not fret, _ion-nín_ , I will be all right," Thranduil assured him, a hint of a smile turning up the corner of his lips. It was a look that did not meet his eyes since a slight throb was persisting in his temples. "No serious harm done."

"Which is something to be grateful for, _mellon-nín_. You are fortunate you were not harmed worse."

His heart sinking a bit while a knowing smile appeared on the prince's face, Thranduil looked behind his son to see Elrond approach the bed, a nervous looking Estel trailing along behind him holding onto his robe with his small hand. His eyebrow was raised in a look of obvious disapproval.

With a sigh, Thranduil lowered his gaze down to his hands, where it lingered on the slender gold ring he wore on his right forefinger. "Aye, it was fortunate," he agreed quietly.

Elrond approached the bed and reached out, lightly setting his hand on the king's head and carefully turning it so he could get a better look at his temple where Aeglironion's sword hilt had come into contact with it. "There is some bruising, but that is the extent of the damage, as well as a couple abrasions," he muttered as he lowered his hand. "Unless there is something you are not sharing with me."

Thranduil met the Elf lord's gaze before briefly shaking his head. "I assure you, I am fine," he said.

"Are you?" Elrond pressed, glancing at Legolas. "When we were searching for you, we came across one of your guards, and he told us you were not appearing well."

"Tidurian was concerned about you as we were, _Ada_ ," Legolas added, tightening his hold on his arm slightly.

Thranduil attempted to give them both another smile. "I appreciate your concern," he replied, setting one hand lightly over his son's as he turned to Elrond. "Though there have been a few occasions where I have felt lightheaded and weak." The look waned when he saw the look of concern, but also understanding, that passed over Legolas' face out of the corner of his eye.

Elrond's brow furrowed as he sat on the bed beside the two Mirkwood monarchs, lifting Estel to rest on his lap before turning his full attention to Thranduil. "How long has this been occurring?" he asked.

"Since last night," Thranduil answered quietly. He had not necessarily wished to divulge this information to the Elf lord, but he also knew lying to him was not the wisest. "The spells do not last long, though they have been somewhat constant. The most recent one occurred while I was with Aeglironion, and he mentioned that his poison may not have failed completely."

Legolas' light eyes narrowed angrily. "I thought the symptoms of the poison had been counteracted."

"They have been, _penneth_ ," Elrond told him, though he still appeared to be somewhat concerned as he continued to gaze at the king's paler face. "However, I believe you will still be weak after what your body has endured, and it would be wise to rest." He arched his eyebrow once more. "Though what I also want to know, _mellon-nín_ , is what you were doing where Aeglironion was being held, both this morning and yesterday morning."

Thranduil smirked, realizing he had been caught. "I apologize, Elrond," he muttered. "I merely wished to speak with him yesterday morning to discover why he has done what he has. And this morning..." He paused for a moment, lowering his gaze. "I was told by a guard I believed to be yours that he wished to speak with me before we passed judgement. And I went foolishly, since he took advantage of the fact that we had not done this in Greenwood."

"You were doing what you judged to be right, _Ada_ ," Legolas said.

"Mayhap, though it was not wise," Elrond added. "Though what do you mean by a guard you believed to be mine?"

"The guard who was keeping watch over the prisoners was the one who locked me in with Aeglironion," the Woodland king explained. "I should have remembered him, but I did not. He was one of Aeglironion's soldiers we banished along with him for planning the assassination attempt in Greenwood."

Elrond's eyes narrowed, deeply perturbed by this information. "How long has he been in Imladris?" he wondered. "What of the other soldiers who were banished?"

"Aeglironion told me Anessen arrived after the poison had been administered so he could be near in the event we apprehended him," Thranduil replied. "I know not where the others are, if they are even within Imladris' borders, though Aeglironion claims he has been in contact with them, as well."

"So, Aeglironion must have been planning this event long before he administered the poison to have had this system in place," Elrond murmured, mainly to himself as he instinctively tightened his hold on the five-year-old slightly, causing him to look up at his foster father curiously. "We had not considered further infiltration..."

Thranduil sighed. "Aeglironion has escaped, then?"

The Elf lord nodded once. "Glorfindel and Erestor are preparing a patrol as we speak to search for him. Our hope is that he has not gotten far." He smiled slightly when the king lowered his gaze once again. "Do not place the blame on yourself, Thranduil. I am simply relieved you were not harmed or worse. Though this may interest you. He left Amonost behind. Elladan and Elrohir are speaking with him now."

The king looked back at him curiously while Legolas did the same. "Why would Aeglironion leave behind one who aided him into Imladris to begin with?" the prince asked. Though, he realized, he knew the answer to his question, at least partly. It was not the first time the cook had abandoned Amonost if it meant his escape.

"I do not believe Amonost has a substantial role in what Aeglironion had planned," Thranduil answered quietly. "A mere means to an end. Though nor do I believe that Aeglironion is the one who is behind this. I feel his own resentment for us merely drew him into another's plan."

Elrond's brow furrowed. "Why do you say this?"

Thranduil met his gaze. "Aeglironion had the chance to kill me since he had been supplied with a weapon," he told them, almost able to feel the anger radiating from his son at these words rather than simply see it in his eyes. "But he did not take it. He wants you and I to suffer what he has, Elrond. That is what he has told me. Although..." His sentence trailed off when he remembered what his former guard had whispered to him when they had been locked in the room together, the name that still filled his heart with dread. Those eyes that still haunted him, the right piercingly green while the left was clouded over with a scar running through it. He closed his own eyes wearily, attempting to force back the memory.

"Awe you awl right, Thwan'dil?" Estel asked, leaning forward and setting his free hand on the king's arm beside Legolas'.

A small smile appeared on his face as Thranduil opened his eyes to look down at the mortal child. "Aye, Estel, I will be fine," he answered. Then, he cast his gaze to Elrond. "May we speak privately?"

Realizing the significance of the situation, Elrond set his hand on top of the boy's head. "Estel, will you please go with Legolas just for one moment?" he said.

Estel merely clung tighter to his foster father's robe. "I want to stay with you," he mumbled.

"I know, though I must speak to Thranduil alone," the Elf lord replied, lightly kissing his head. "I promise it will not be long, _tithen pen_. You may wait outside the door for me."

A moment passed before Estel finally nodded. "Awl right, _Ada_." He then reached a hand out toward the prince.

However, Legolas' gaze did not leave his father. " _Ada_ , may I not stay, too?" he pressed.

Thranduil gave him a small smile. "Remember my words," he told him. "Do not bear a burden that is not yours to bear, _ion-nín_."

The prince appeared to be about to protest, though under the king's steady gaze, he finally lowered his own. "Aye, _Ada_." He then took Estel's proffered hand and helped the small mortal carefully to the floor before they began to cross the room. Elrond rose from the bed and followed them, giving Legolas a smile of his own when he and his foster son stepped into the hallway before closing the door behind them.

* * *

"I do not believe he would linger in Imladris, though I have positioned guards around to ensure that he has not," Glorfindel said as he and Erestor stepped out onto the porch of the house of Elrond. "I will bring another patrol with me to search the surrounding area. He will not get far."

Erestor nodded as he kept in step beside the golden-haired warrior as he made his way down the steps, securing his sword around his waist. "After your departure, I will check with the guards for any news," he replied. "In the meantime, I will join Elladan and Elrohir to see what we may learn from Amonost. 'Tis curious that he was left behind."

"Aye, though mayhap his role in this plot is finished," Glorfindel muttered before he came to a stop at the bottom of the steps, his brow furrowing. "It unsettles me that there was no guard in place when we discovered Thranduil. I specifically had a couple there."

The chief advisor worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "Do you believe whoever had been there... aided Aeglironion...?" He hesitated on his words, not wanting to believe that another guard they had trusted could be capable of such deceit after the recent events.

Glorfindel's fair visage darkened. "If that is what transpired, he was not one of mine."

A moment passed before Erestor sighed and crossed his arms. "I am simply relieved Thranduil was relatively unharmed."

"That is indeed one thing we may be grateful for," Glorfindel agreed, a hint of a smile appearing at the corner of his lips as he reached out and set a light hand on the slender advisor's arm. "We will hopefully return soon with some word on Aeglironion's whereabouts."

"Be cautious, Glorfindel," Erestor told him.

The Balrog Slayer chuckled. "Am I not always, _mellon-nín_?" he wondered.

A wry smile spread across the dark-haired Elf's face. "Not always," he countered, only causing Glorfindel to grin as he left his friend's side to retrieve his horse. The look slowly vanished from Erestor's face as he cast his dark gaze to the group of guards that were gathering with their own horses to ride with the twice-born warrior to search for the escaped prisoner. Two fair-haired Elves near the back of the group caught his eye, and he looked at them curiously, trying to place their names as he gazed at their faces. His eyes narrowed slightly.

Before he could dwell on it, the chief advisor's attention was averted when Glorfindel approached the group with his own white horse and issued a few rapid commands. The guards all started to mount their horses while he did the same as they began to head for the gate.

Erestor approached his friend before he could follow. "Glorfindel, I–!"

"Tell Elrond we will return as soon as we are able," Glorfindel interrupted with a smile before he began to guide his horse forward. "Hopefully, there will be something you may gain from Amonost."

"Glorfindel..." Erestor started to attempt again, though it ended in a sigh when the Balrog Slayer continued on his way. He searched the group until he found the two guards who had previously caught his attention, unable to shake the dread he suddenly felt. It only increased when they both looked straight at him, a look he was unable to read crossing their faces before they blended in with the rest of the patrol.

Uneasy, the slender advisor turned and began to make his way back up the steps. Joining the twins would have to wait, for expressing his concerns to Elrond was more important.

But then, Erestor paused when he reached the porch, and he inwardly berated himself. He had not been having much sleep as of late, and the dark dreams he'd had the night before were influencing his waking thoughts, he was certain of it. He was allowing them to linger with him, something he knew he could not allow to happen. He passed a slightly shaking hand wearily over his face. Glorfindel would be fine. He could not allow the anxiety that came with these dreams to overtake him once again.

After taking a few deep breaths, Erestor straightened his shoulders as he prepared to join Elladan and Elrohir in interrogating Amonost, hoping it would produce some results and solid answers they could go by. But before he could enter the house, something caught his eye from behind a nearby clump of rocks. His dark eyes narrowing, the chief advisor walked back down the steps and made his way around the side of them to where the stone cluster sat.

Though when he reached it, he came to an abrupt halt before stumbling back, his mouth dropping open as his eyes widened in horror.

 **Author's Note** : So, yeah, the cliffhangers not going away quite yet, lol. But we also have a couple questions here. What has Aeglironion lost that he wants Thranduil and Elrond to suffer losing as well? Is Aeglironion the one behind this plot, or is it someone else from Thranduil's past? What did Erestor find? We'll, of course, get into these questions, and find out the answers, as we continue on. Also another quick note. Much like Helinniel and Beriana, the characters of Aearion and Erynion have found their place in this little Thranduil universe of sorts through other stories, and they may be mentioned more or make a small appearance in this one (particularly Aearion), as well. Aearion made his official debut in my Legolas and Thranduil oneshot "A Balrog in the Closet," and both he and Erynion were a bit more major in "Ripple Effect" and will both be featured in its sequel "Riptide." So, that's it for this one! Thanks for reading, and I hope to get the next chapter up a bit quicker once things start settling down on my end. See ya next time!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows, it means a lot! I'm glad this story is liked! And yes, the plot is indeed thickening now, so this is when the ride truly starts for our favorite Elves.

In response to **CoffeRanger** (I wish I could have replied to you directly!): Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed the flashback, as well as Helinniel (I'm thinking this is the healer you're referencing)! It's okay about the name, lol. But yes, she's known Thranduil for her entire life, so I'm glad that you liked their dynamic. I'm glad you're looking forward to the next chapter! As for what Erestor found, I can't say that it's that great, either (well, Erestor has been attacked in this little series before, but I really can't say that any of these Elves are exactly safe...). I'm just glad that it's liked! And thank you for your review!

I was hoping to get this chapter up before I left for vacation this weekend, and I'm happy that I got to do that! For those of you who observe it, happy Memorial Day! With all that said, enjoy!

Elvish:

 _Ada_ – father  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _mellon-nín_ – my friend

 _Chapter 4_

Elladan sighed as he took a couple steps closer to Amonost, who calmly sat on the hard floor looking back at him, while Elrohir lingered closer to the door. "I presume that since you are here, my judgement will soon be passed by your father," the prisoner murmured.

"Nay, I am afraid that must be delayed," the older twin told him, keeping both his tone and face impassive. "There are more pressing matters that are demanding our attention. You truly do not know why we are here?"

Amonost looked back at the twins with confusion. "If it is not to inform me, Lord Elladan, I cannot say that I do," he replied.

Elladan cast a glance back to Elrohir, who met it steadily with a slight nod, before turning back to their former guard. Like his brother, the older twin wanted to be able to give him the benefit of the doubt since he had always had so much respect for him. Amonost had done so much for them over the years, aiding in both of their growth as warriors alongside Glorfindel. Though it was something he could not forget, it was also a sentiment that was a bit easier for him to overlook now after all the other Elf had done.

"Aeglironion has escaped," Elladan informed him, and though there was a slight flicker in Amonost's eyes, there was nothing readable on his face. "And since you still remain, I know not whether he intends to return for you, or if he has simply abandoned you." He sighed, his gray gaze faltering. "If there is something, anything, that you may know about what he has done, or what he now plans to do, now is the time to tell us. Our father may consider anything you say when he passes judgement."

A long moment passed where all was silent in the small room. Finally, Amonost leaned forward a little. "I am honestly unsure what I am able to tell you," he said. "I have been kept here since before he was, if you remember."

Elrohir stepped around his twin. "Do you know what _Ada_ told me?" he asked quietly, causing Amonost to look at him curiously. A different tactic may have yielded more results.

Elladan set a hand on his arm. "Elrohir," he murmured, though his caution went unheeded as his brother took a couple steps closer to their former guard.

" _Ada_ has told me that you have still retained some of your loyalty to him," Elrohir continued earnestly. "I wish to believe him. I have had nothing but respect for you since I was a child. So if there is anything you know about what Aeglironion plans to do now, if he indeed has some plot in mind, that may enable us to stop him, please tell us. As my brother said, _Ada_ may consider anything you say when he passes judgement if you aid us now."

The older twin watched Elrohir and the prisoner carefully, a little surprised to see an almost sad smile appear on the latter's face. "Aye, Elrohir, I still do have love for Lord Elrond for all he has done for me," Amonost admitted quietly, a fond look in his eye. "Believe me when I say I am grateful that no harm came to him, as I am grateful that King Thranduil still lives." He paused with a sigh. "I regret bringing Aeglironion here to Imladris since I have seen what he intended to do, despite the friendship we had. Though I still know not what I am able to tell you since I know not what he intends to do now. He did not share that with me."

"There must be something," Elladan pressed, taking a couple steps forward to join his brother. "Something he told you while you were with him." A look of uncertainty crossed the prisoner's face, and the older twin's eyes narrowed slightly. "If you truly meant what you said about still having love for our father and are grateful he and King Thranduil are alive, you would attempt to tell us something of value. As I see it, with Aeglironion free, their lives are still at risk."

"Mayhap you can tell us how you came to aid him with this plot," Elrohir suggested. "You mentioned you at one time had a friendship with Aeglironion?"

Amonost nodded. "It was a friendship gained when we each answered the call for the Last Alliance," he explained thoughtfully. "We did not see each other often on the field of battle, though it was enough. When I accompanied your father to Greenwood so he could lend any aid he could after the death of her king, I learned of the assassination plot against King Thranduil, as well as Aeglironion's involvement in it. I did not believe it. Though I had not known him long, I did not believe him capable of such a treacherous act. Even after his banishment was decided, I believed him to be innocent. He was furious, of course. I cannot fault him for that. He was forced from his home for an act he did not commit."

"That is not what _Ada_ said," Elladan said sternly. Elrohir glanced at his twin, remembering how the lord of Imladris had actually revealed to him that he was uncertain if Aeglironion was as innocent as he claimed to be or not.

"I beg your pardon, Elladan, but Lord Elrond has also admitted himself that he and King Thranduil did not look as closely at this case as they should have due to the turmoil in Greenwood at the time, and they made their decision with haste," Amonost countered. "It was something he admitted to me even then when we were returning to Imladris. He doubted whether or not they made the right decision. And I mean no disrespect to your father by saying this. I actually respect him more because of it."

Elladan met Elrohir's gaze before looking back at their prisoner. "Go on."

"It was years later when I saw him next, on the edge of the Ford of Bruinen when I was on a patrol," Amonost continued. "He did not appear well, and I brought him to Imladris as quickly as I could. You were only Elflings at the time."

"I can vaguely remember," Elrohir muttered. "Though I have pleasant memories of growing up with him here. I never felt that he meant our father any harm."

Amonost gave him a small but somber smile. "I did not either, _penneth_ ," he replied. "He did not even mention what had occurred in Greenwood for a long time. I believed that somehow, he had been able to look beyond it since it had been so long. But his rage ran deep." His gaze faltered. "I did not know he had planned to poison Lord Elrond and King Thranduil when he had the opportunity. He did not tell me that. Though the day it happened, he did tell me that he had an important matter he had to see to. He asked for my aid, but not in the way that you would believe. The only thing Aeglironion asked of me was to ensure King Thranduil could be isolated. I foolishly did not give it much thought at the time since I was unaware of his intention."

Elladan arched an eyebrow. "Did you not feel that was a suspicious request?" he asked.

"Aye, I did," Amonost answered with a slight nod. "Though I did hope that he only meant to speak with the king away from us, to prove my beliefs of him. After all, it is not a matter one would like an audience for. Clearly, I was wrong."

"From what you are saying, it sounds as though he merely used you to gain access into Rivendell," the older twin stated.

"I believe that may be what he intended," Amonost agreed quietly. "It makes me question the friendship I believe we had."

"So when you threatened Legolas and I in the kitchens, did Aeglironion force you to do so?" Elrohir wondered. "Or was that your own decision?" The image of Amonost holding Legolas, his blade at the prince's throat, while Aeglironion threatened to kill him was still clear in his mind. Elladan tensed from beside him.

"Did he?" Elrohir repeated in a voice barely above a whisper, his intense gaze remaining solely on the prisoner.

Amonost sighed. "Aye," he conceded. "He did. Though, also, he did not."

Elrohir turned to Elladan with confusion before turning back to their former guard. "What is the meaning of that?"

"There were times shortly after I brought Aeglironion to Imladris, as well as some times after, where he would be worried about something," Amonost said. "I know not what, but whatever it may have been caused him a lot of distress and fear. That fear dissipated for some time, but it returned the day he poisoned King Thranduil, stronger than I had ever seen it. He did not tell me its cause, even when he asked for my aid, though in the instance you spoke of, Elrohir, he did mention that our lives could be threatened if he did not do what was asked of him. That if he did not, he would lose what he has been wanting and was promised should he succeed. He needed my aid because of that fear. Though I did not work at his side through much of this plot, it was known I was aware of at least a part of it. And I admit that I acted out of concern when I threatened you and Prince Legolas that night, Elrohir. It is my hope that you may forgive me."

"Your and Aeglironion's lives could have been at risk?" Elladan turned back to his brother, leaning closer to him and lowering his voice. "Does this sound to you as it does to me?" When Elrohir's matching gray eyes flickered with concern, the older twin turned back to the prisoner. "Amonost, is there someone else that we are unaware of? Is Aeglironion taking orders from someone?"

Amonost met both of their gazes, and when they saw the similar look on his face, they realized it was all they needed to know that this plot did indeed run further than any of them had previously considered.

"Who is it, Amonost?" Elrohir asked, his tone wavering ever so slightly. "Who is trying to murder our father and King Thranduil?"

* * *

Elrond sat back down on the bed beside the Woodland king. "What did you wish to speak to me about, Thranduil?" he asked quietly.

A moment passed where Thranduil continued to gaze at where his crown was sitting on the small table beside the bed, in particular watching one golden leaf that appeared to be on the verge of breaking off, before he glanced back at the Elf lord. "It was something Aeglironion said," he answered, his tone and gaze distant as though his mind was elsewhere. "Before he escaped."

"What did he say, _mellon-nín_?" Elrond's brow furrowed a bit in concern.

Thranduil's gaze sharpened. "A name. He gave me a name," he replied. "'Tis one I have not heard in so long. I once believed I would never hear it again. Though Aeglironion told me he is waiting for me."

Elrond leaned toward him a little. "You mentioned you believed someone else to have set this plot against us, not Aeglironion," he muttered. "This name he gave you. Do you believe Aeglironion to be taking his orders?"

The Woodland king lowered his gaze for a moment, a feeling of dread he could not rid of once again settling over his heart. "'Tis possible. Though I do not believe he has any ill will toward you. In that regard, I feel that is Aeglironion."

"Who is it, Thranduil?" the master of Rivendell pressed.

Thranduil took a deep breath as he met his friend's gaze. "His name is Máfortion," he explained, his features darkening. "He was a friend of my father's from our days in Doriath and followed us after its ruin and when we settled in Greenwood. When my father was chosen to bear the crown, he was named a captain in our forces. Though... I know not what it was... there was something about him that always made me unsettled. Even while we were in Doriath. When I would tell my father this, he took my concern to heart, though he did not share in it. If he did, he did not tell me. I feel as though he did not wish to concern me further. Though, because my father did, I trusted him also.

"I know not what occurred, though it was a long time into my father's rule when the connection between him and Máfortion was severed. He was demoted from captain, and he left Greenwood for some time. When I asked my father for information, he simply told me it was not my burden to bear." The king briefly paused, having heard the same sentiment reflected in his own voice recently to his own son. "When Máfortion did return, it appeared as though his relationship with my father was repaired, though it was not as it once was. Some time passed, and I did not give it much thought. Though there was one day where I was attending a brief meeting with my father and his chief advisor, Aearion, when... when Máfortion attempted to assassinate my father with a poisoned dart of his own making. I pursued him while Aearion tended to my father, and we fought while I attempted to detain him. I was injured, though not severely, though I believe he meant for me to die along with my father that day. He taunted me, telling me we did not deserve the crowns we had been given. I allowed my fury to guide my blade, and I blinded him in his left eye."

Thranduil shook his head slightly. "I will never forget those cries of agony," he murmured. "I will never forget that sight. To this day, I am still able to see the hatred for my father, the hatred for me, in those eyes, though one could no longer see. Those eyes are burned into my memory, _mellon-nín_. His judgement was passed, and he was banished from Greenwood, and none know what became of him then. There were some reports that he had settled elsewhere and others that he had been killed in the wild. Though we had never heard from him again. Until now."

Elrond's gray eyes narrowed, though his features otherwise remained stoic. "What ill does he believe Oropher had committed against him to go to those lengths?" he asked. "Other than when your father's anger toward him caused him to demote him. What caused him to attempt to assassinate him?"

The Mirkwood monarch slowly shook his head. "I know not, though it is something I have often wondered myself," he answered quietly. "Though I share your view that his demotion could not have been the only reason. It is something I questioned my father about, though he did not say. Not entirely. I am uncertain if even he knew."

The lord of Imladris glanced out the window thoughtfully. If what Thranduil was telling him now meant that what Aeglironion had told the king that morning was true, the threat against his friend's life went much further than he had ever considered. And it concerned him greatly since they were not prepared.

"I know not if Aeglironion speaks the truth," Thranduil continued, his own concern reflected in his gaze. "Though if he is, I can only presume that Aeglironion and his soldiers who were banished with him came in contact with Máfortion. I know not if Máfortion told Aeglironion to come here to Imladris and attempt to poison us, but if they have formed an alliance, it encouraged Aeglironion enough to do so being aware that his soldiers and Máfortion were supporting him and prepared to aid him should he fail."

Elrond nodded in agreement, though his brow furrowed. "Though if they had planned this attempt on our lives long ago, that still does not explain why he waited until now do enact that plan," he murmured.

Thranduil glanced down at his hands once more, his eyes narrowed in thought. "Mayhap there was some correspondence that you were unaware of," he suggested. "He could have been told when to act." Though even as he said the words, he was uncertain if he fully believed them. For Aeglironion's initial threat continued to linger in his mind.

 _"You know not what you, and Elrond, have taken from me, Thranduil, though by the Valar, one day you will."_

What did he believe they had taken from him?

"I suppose that could be plausible," Elrond agreed, his concerned gaze moving back to his friend. "Though I still feel there is something we have overlooked. As soon as Glorfindel returns, I believe we should first attempt to find out if–!"

But his sentence cut off immediately when he hissed as he closed his eyes tightly as flickers assaulted his mind.

* * *

 _Pained screams echoed around him..._

 _... a pair of wide, fearful dark eyes looked back at him, pleaded with him..._

 _... a dark figure moved toward him..._

 _... his own scream echoed in his ears as he reached for his blade, stained with blood..._

Erestor stumbled back from the clump of rocks, his dark eyes wide with horror as he felt the color drain from his face and his breath catch in his chest.

Three lifeless bodies, removed of armor, were lying side by side in the swaying grass. Dried blood had caked into their dark hair and their light tunics, as well as tainted their deathly pale features, though their eyes had been closed.

The chief advisor dropped to one knee beside the bodies, setting one hand over his heart while reaching out with his other and lightly setting it on the arm of the one nearest him, recognizing him as being the guard that Glorfindel had set in place to watch over Aeglironion and Amonost until their judgement was to be passed that morning. With regret, he realized it explained how Aeglironion was able to escape and why no guard had been in place when it occurred.

Erestor then turned to the other two Elves beside the guard, and he gasped when he recognized them to be ones the Balrog Slayer usually brought with him on patrol and should have been with him now.

 _A look he couldn't read crossed the faces of two fair-haired Elves before they blended in with the rest of the patrol as they followed Glorfindel..._

"Ai, Glorfindel..." The slender advisor gazed at the three lifeless guards lying before him, appearing so peaceful, and was instantly torn. He closed his eyes and murmured a brief blessing before rising to his feet, knowing they could not remain where they were and that Elrond would have to be informed. But he also dreaded to think that, as much as he trusted the skill and abilities of his closest friend, Glorfindel could be in danger.

Erestor looked up at the house of Elrond, knowing it would take too long for him to go to the Elf lord and alert him of his discovery as well as his worry for the twice-born warrior. His dark gaze traveled down to his hands, finding his thin fingers were shaking slightly, though also appearing to be reaching for something.

 _He hesitantly grasped the slightly curved handle, which fit perfectly in his palm, of one of his Noldorin daggers and slid it out of its worn, thin sheath, revealing its intricately designed blade..._

He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. It would take even longer to reach his own room to retrieve the weapons he kept hidden. He had vowed to never again use them, it was something he continued to remind himself of.

Though if the situation called for them...

Biting down on his bottom lip to restrain the cry of frustration that threatened to escape him, Erestor quickly looked around him. Spotting one of the guards from the night patrol making his way back from the direction of the gates, he inwardly thanked the Valar as he hurried over with as much dignity as he could muster and led him back to the cluster of rocks to show him what he had discovered.

"Lord Elrond must be informed with all haste. I know not for certain what happened, but they cannot remain here," the chief advisor sternly instructed the horrified guard, attempting to slow his own racing heart. "Also inform him that I believe there to be deceit among the patrol Glorfindel took with him to search for an escaped prisoner not long ago and to send out reinforcements."

The guard tore his wide eyes away from the three lifeless Elves who had been his friends and brothers-in-arms before he quickly bowed his head in respect to him. "Aye, Lord Erestor," he said, casting one last despaired look behind the rock cluster before he hurried up the steps and disappeared into the house.

Erestor remained by the bodies for a moment longer as he let out a long breath, his brow furrowed as he considered his options. If there truly was deceit among Glorfindel's patrol and his friend was in danger, waiting for the guard to return would take too long. Action had to be taken now.

Making up his mind, the slender advisor quickly made his way to the stables and retrieved the horse he often used when he needed to travel outside of Imladris. The animal seemed slightly nervous, likely feeling his own anxiety, and Erestor reached out and lightly ran a hand down his long nose and murmured soothing words into his ear. The effect was nearly instantaneous, and he swiftly secured the saddle and led him out of the stables. As he mounted the horse and made his way toward the gates, he could only hope that he could reach Glorfindel's patrol in time.

* * *

"Report back to me of any findings," Glorfindel instructed as he watched the other members of his patrol spread out through the trees before him. He sighed to himself, still perturbed about why it had come to this. Having Imladris' forces under his command, he knew that Aeglironion should not have been able to escape, and it did not settle well with him that it had happened under his watch. Though he was confident in his hope that the former cook had not gotten far and that they would soon find him.

They had to. Judgement would be passed for the threat against Elrond and Thranduil's lives, he would do all that was in his power to ensure that.

The Balrog Slayer urged his own horse forward, following a couple of his guards as they made their way through the trees. But he slowed him again a bit when a fair-haired guard approached him from the right. "You are supposed to be in place," Glorfindel told him, hints of his irritation slipping through in his tone. "Do you have news?"

When he received no answer other than a slight smirk, Glorfindel brought his horse to a complete stop as his light eyes narrowed. Though he wore the armor of those under his command, the other Elf did not appear familiar to him at all. His face was not one he recognized, and his heart dropped as he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Who are–!"

Suddenly, the golden-haired warrior hissed in surprise when a slight prick of pain came from the back of his neck. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, seeing a second fair-haired Elf he did not recognize also wearing the armor of his own soldiers had approached from behind, a long, narrow tube held in his slender fingers.

"Do not fret, Lord Glorfindel," the first unfamiliar Elf murmured, his smirk broadening. "We must not do this because we place blame on you. Just one who is close to your heart. He is why you now suffer."

"What are you speaking of?" Glorfindel demanded, his eyes narrowing angrily as his light gaze swept the trees around him for the nearest guards in his patrol. When a slight burning feeling started to spread from the spot he'd felt the prick on his neck, Glorfindel quickly reached up and felt that something was there. He immediately pulled at it before lowering his arm, seeing that what appeared to be a small, dark dart of some sort was resting in his palm.

 **Author's Note** : Still a cliffhanger ending (again, not sure how soon they'll be going away, since they have definitely seemed to drive both of these stories :P Lol). So, now we have more questions. Can Amonost's word be trusted? Who is pulling the strings in this plot against Elrond and Thranduil? If not Aeglironion, what role does Máfortion play in all this? What did he have against Oropher and Thranduil? What did he promise Aeglironion that he's wanted? And will Erestor reach Glorfindel in time? We'll have to wait and see! Thanks for reading, guys! See ya next time!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Sorry it's been a little bit. Being on vacation and then coming back to a huge load at work (which has been tiring) has thrown off my writing schedule a little bit as I'm getting back into my normal routine. But, here we are with another one! Thank you for your reviews! They mean a lot!

In response to **CoffeeRanger** : Hi! It's no problem, I like replying to reviews! Thank you for leaving one! I'm glad that both of those things made your night :) Haha, well, it is my goal to keep this story suspenseful, and I can guarantee that it'll continue (and breath holding and hearts racing is a good indication that I'm accomplishing that goal) ;) This story is going to be darker than "Tainted" was, that's for sure. Nope, Máfortion is not a nice Elf at all. And he's had quite a long time to ruminate on everything, so he's only gotten more bitter. Hmm, well, I will definitely say to keep that possibility about Aeglironion in mind– all I can really say for sure is that there is more than meets the eye to him and his role in these stories. There are a couple clues about him in the first one, as well as coming up in this one. As for the history between Máfortion and Oropher, that will certainly be coming to the surface and Thranduil will find out. Hang in there, because it just may take a little bit to get there ;) Yes, Glorfindel! He hadn't really had any problems to deal with in the first story, so it was kinda his turn. But also, there is a pretty important reason why he was targeted. But yes, of course I have to keep the suspense coming :) It's what this story's all about, lol. Your feeling is most likely pretty right on about the poison on the dart ;) Which is, of course, significant. I hope this installment is as awesome as you hope it is and that it was worth the wait! Funny you mention Legolas and Estel, because that's actually who we're kicking this chapter off with! I'm just happy that this story is liked! Thank you for reviewing!

All righty, with that said, let's continue on, shall we? Things are starting to pick up, and they will only continue to do so as we progress. What's in store for our favorite Elves? We'll have to see! Enjoy!

Elvish:

 _tithen pen_ – little one  
 _Ada_ – father  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _mellon-nín_ – my friend  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _ion-nín_ – my son

 _Chapter 5_

It was clear to Legolas that Estel would have much preferred to be in the company of his foster father. He glanced down at the small mortal where they were sitting on the floor against the wall across from Thranduil's room, watching as he silently played with the hem of his tunic where he was curled against his side under his arm while his gray eyes remained intently on the closed door in front of them. The prince knew he was not the same as Elrond, but at least he was providing the child with someone to hold onto.

But he also couldn't deny that he also wished that door would open, or at least that he could be on the other side of it so he could be involved with the conversation Elrond and his father were having about Aeglironion and who else could have possibly been involved in the plot against their lives. Why he was not allowed to hear this information, he did not understand. He knew Thranduil did not wish for him to bear the weight of a situation that should not have concerned him, but the person who wanted the king dead had escaped, and it was possible that there was another, someone who was possibly even more dangerous, who desired to see his father dead. As he saw it, it was a situation that concerned him considering Thranduil's life was still at risk.

His mind wandered to his bow that was sitting at the foot of his bed in the room beside the one he was watching, recalling the slight satisfaction he had felt when he'd loosed the arrow that had pierced Aeglironion's shoulder. Though more than ever, he wished there was more he could have done involving the person who had caused his father so much pain, who was still causing him to suffer. Because now he had disappeared, and they had no way of knowing what he could have planned. It unsettled him, but it also made him all the more determined to do everything in his power to ensure his king's safety.

Legolas' gaze faltered. Thranduil had visited Aeglironion on two occasions, something he did not appear to trust him enough to share with him. Even though he knew his father simply did not want to burden him, he also wished that he had known about it. This morning could have had a much different, much more devastating outcome with the Woodland king trapped with the prisoner, who had been supplied with a weapon, and they would have been none the wiser if something had happened. If anything, that was the smallest of reasons why he wished his father would have told him what was happening.

But that rose the question of why Aeglironion had not taken advantage of that situation and, though he did not wish to think it, killed Thranduil if that is what he wished for so strongly. There would not have been a more ideal opportunity to do so if his desire for vengeance had driven him enough, but something had prevented him from doing so. Was this part of his plan? Or was there truly someone else giving him orders? Was there something else driving his motivations?

"I'm scawed, Legowas."

Brought out of his thoughts by the sudden voice, the prince glanced down at the young boy snuggled close to him. "Of what, Estel?" he asked gently. "There is nothing to be afraid of here."

But Estel nodded in earnest. "The pewson who huwt Thwan'dil is out thewe..."

Legolas sighed before he gave the five-year-old a small smile as he set a light hand on top of his head. "Aye, he is," he told him. "But you have nothing to fear. I did not allow him to hurt you once, and I promise you, I will keep you safe again. He will not touch you. Your family and my father will not allow him near you. You have my word, _tithen pen_."

A moment passed before Estel clambered onto the Elf's lap and looked up with wide gray orbs as he met his friend's kind eyes, fear plain in his gaze. "Pwease don't leave, Legowas," he mumbled.

"Leave?" Legolas repeated before his smile broadened. "I am not leaving until your _Ada_ deems mine well enough to travel to our home, and when Aeglironion and who may be aiding him has had their judgement passed."

But Estel tightly gripped onto his tunic with both of his small hands as though that would keep him there in that spot. "Something bad wiwl happen if you leave," he said in a tiny voice just above a whisper.

The prince's eyes narrowed slightly. "Estel, I will not leave until it is safe to do so," he assured him. "I give you my word on that."

The small mortal leaned against Legolas' chest and closed his eyes, simply feeling its steady rise and fall while the Elf wrapped his arms lightly around him. Legolas sighed as he rubbed the boy's back. Something was frightening him, but what it was, he couldn't say for sure, other than his fear of Aeglironion, which was reasonable after having been taken by the former cook.

"He wants to huwt you, Thwan'dil, _Ada_... evewyone..."

Legolas glanced down at Estel, remembering how earlier that morning, he had said something similar when he'd heard Thranduil had gone to visit the prisoner. "Who does?" he wondered. "Aeglironion?"

To his surprise, the child shook his head. "No, someone ewse," he answered quietly, almost thoughtfully. "Someone vewy mad at Thwan'dil." He met the prince's gaze. "Aeg'wonion's sad."

Dread had fallen over Legolas' heart at his first words, though how Estel could know something like that for sure, that someone had the intention to hurt his father other than Aeglironion, he did not know. But his words about the Elf in question confused him. "Aeglironion's sad? What do you mean by that, _penneth_?"

Estel slowly looked up at his friend again, his brow furrowed in concentration. "He said something... when he twied to take me away fwom hewe," he explained. "He seemed sad."

Legolas attempted to keep his face impassive despite how his heart leapt. The five-year-old hadn't spoken a word of what had happened when he had been taken by Aeglironion since he'd been returned, not even to Elrond. "What did he say?" he pressed carefully. He didn't want to distress the boy by dwelling on this memory, but he knew anything he could say could be important.

"He lost something," Estel told him. "And that made him sad. He's twying to find it."

The prince allowed these words to sink in. "Did he say what he lost, Estel?" When the small mortal nodded, he set a hand on his head. "What is it, _penneth_? What did he lose?"

However, Estel just shook his head. "I'm sowwy... I fowget..."

Trying to hide his disappointment, Legolas smiled as he ruffled the child's hair a little. "'Tis all right, Estel," he said, knowing his time spent with Aeglironion had been a traumatic ordeal. "Do not worry." But inwardly, he could not help but feel as though this was the key to figuring out Aeglironion's role in the plot against Elrond and his father.

They just had to discover what that was.

* * *

 _A small dart. Dark trees. A fair-haired and a dark-haired Elf lying still in the shadows. A bloodstained blade. Golden leaves falling off a crown..._

"Elrond... Elrond!"

The Elf lord quickly opened his eyes with a quiet gasp, seeing that Thranduil was looking back at him with a look of concern in his paler features. "Are you all right?" the king pressed.

A brief moment passed before Elrond nodded as a small smile appeared on his face, though his gray gaze lingered on his friend's crown before he met his eyes. The feeling of dread that had come with these flickers continued to linger over him. There was a danger he could not pinpoint, and that was concerning to him. "I am fine, _mellon-nín_ ," he replied, his voice wavering ever so slightly before strengthening. "'Tis nothing to be concerned about. What was I saying?"

Thranduil continued to gaze at the master of Imladris, unsure if he believed his words as he could tell his thoughts were scattered. He also could not miss that his eyes continued to flit back to where his crown was sitting. "We were discussing Máfortion, and if it were possible he could have set this plot against us through Aeglironion," he told him. "And that there is something we have overlooked in regards to it. I believe you were about to say something about Glorfindel."

Elrond's brow furrowed before he nodded. "Ah, yes. I remember," he muttered before he sighed. "I do feel there is something we are missing, something we have overlooked. Though I am unsure of what that could be. We are being more cautious with Aeglironion's actions this time than when we were in Greenwood, yet we still do not have all the answers. I believe we should speak to Glorfindel upon his return about seeing if we may find out if there has been correspondence between Aeglironion and Máfortion, if he truly is involved and issuing commands, as well as to search for where they might be gathered since you mentioned the other Elves we had banished also have a hand in this plot."

Thranduil nodded his agreement before he let out a long breath and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the pillows. Elrond's eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned forward a bit. "How are you faring, _mellon-nín_?" He reached out and gently placed his fingertips on the side of his head beside the bruised temple to check it again.

The Mirkwood monarch's eyes slowly fluttered open at the touch, though his light gaze lingered on nothing in particular. "Should Aeglironion still have some plan against us, should Máfortion truly be involved, the fault would lie with me," he murmured.

"Do not say such a thing, Thranduil," Elrond admonished lightly, though there was still a heavier note to his tone. "The blame could not be placed on you. Aeglironion did not have to choose to act on his anger and plan this assassination attempt. And should Máfortion truly have a hand in his actions, that fault is also not yours to bear. What happened between him and Oropher should have remained there, and he, much like Aeglironion, did not have to make that same choice. The blame is theirs, _mellon-nín_ , not yours. Though should they act against us again, we shall do what we must."

Though even as he said the words, he was unsure if he completely believed they would be prepared since the flickers he had seen and the dread that had accompanied them still lingered with him. And he could see in the king's weary eyes when they met his was that he was as uncertain about those words as he was.

Before anything else could be said, the door of the room opened unexpectedly, and the Elf lord quickly stood and turned around in time to see one of his guards from the night patrol hurry inside. Behind him holding a nervous looking Estel in his arms was Legolas, who appeared concerned but also hesitant.

"I apologize for intruding, Lord Elrond, but Lord Erestor sent me with all haste."

Elrond gazed back at the dark-haired guard, his brow furrowing when he could see an even bled of sorrow and fear in his features. Something was wrong.

Thranduil leaned around his friend in order to get a better look at his son. "Are you all right, Legolas?" he asked.

The prince nodded. "I am fine, _Ada_ ," he answered. "I also apologize for intruding, but this could not wait."

"'Tis all right, _penneth_ ," Elrond said before he approached the guard. "What is the matter?"

The other Elf met his gaze while his own faltered, and he stepped closer to the Elf lord and lowered his voice so the small mortal with them could not hear him. "Lord Erestor discovered three of our guards outside. They were deceased. Two were supposed to be on patrol with Lord Glorfindel now, while the other was guarding the prisoners during the night."

Elrond's gray eyes widened with horror before he glanced back at Thranduil on the bed behind him. The king's fair features remained impassive, but there was a resignation in his eyes reflecting the guilt he felt that lives had been lost presumably due to one of the Elves he'd banished who was now aiding in Aeglironion's escape.

"What of Lord Glorfindel's patrol?" the Elf lord asked as he turned back to the guard.

"Lord Erestor feels there may be deceit among them," the other Elf answered. "He requests reinforcements be sent in effort to find those responsible."

Elrond nodded thoughtfully before his gaze moved behind the guard when sudden movement caught his eye. He watched as Legolas set down a struggling Estel, bending down and picking up the child when he approached him and holding him close to him protectively. "All right. I will send Elladan and Elrohir with their guard, so if you would be kind enough to alert them with all haste," he murmured. "They are speaking with our other prisoner. I will tend to our fallen kin."

The guard bowed his head in respect to his lord before he turned and hurried out of the room in search of the twins. Legolas watched him leave before turning his attention to Elrond. "May I ride with them?" he wondered. The regrettable fate of the Rivendell soldiers could not have been a coincidence, and he was convinced that Aeglironion had a hand in these events.

Elrond gave him a somber smile over the top of Estel's head. "That is not my decision to make, Legolas," he told him.

The prince took a few steps further into the room, stopping at his father's bedside. "May I lend my aid to Elladan and Elrohir, _Ada_?" he pressed.

Thranduil sighed before nodding once after a long moment. "Since I am currently unable to lend my aid, aye, you may," he muttered.

Legolas smiled in return. " _Hannon le_." He turned to leave, though he was stopped by his father's voice behind him.

" _Ion-nín_."

"Aye, _Ada_?"

Thranduil met his gaze. "Be cautious, Legolas." If Máfortion truly was directing the rest of these Elves to act, he was hesitant to let him leave but also knew that he could not prevent him from doing so since he would probably leave even if he forbade it. He had almost lost his father to this person he once trusted; he could not lose his son, too.

"I will," the prince assured him. His blue eyes then moved to Estel, who was curled up against his foster father's chest, seeing that he was looking at him with fearful gray eyes through his dark mass of hair.

 _"Pwease don't leave, Legowas..."_

For a moment, Legolas almost considered heeding the small mortal's earlier words. Something was scaring him, and he was fairly certain that something was outside of the walls of Imladris. Though he quickly passed off this thought. He would not be alone. He'd be with Elladan and Elrohir, and they would soon join Glorfindel's patrol. Nothing terrible would happen if he were to leave with that company.

Without hesitation, he turned and hurried out of the room to grab his bow and quiver of arrows to meet with the twins and the soldiers who would be accompanying them before they left to find the golden-haired warrior.

When the door closed behind him, Elrond sighed as he turned to face the bed again, seeing Thranduil appeared to be unsettled. He could not deny he felt similarly as the feeling of dread that had begun the previous night continued to flourish. "They will be fine," he murmured, mainly to convince himself as he held Estel close.

Though with the flickers he had seen, with that danger he could not pinpoint, he was uncertain how true those words were.

* * *

Erestor swiftly maneuvered his horse through the trees, his dark eyes searching for any sign of the twice-born Balrog Slayer. He had complete faith in his friend's skill as a warrior, though he could not ignore the feeling in his heart that something was terribly wrong. His slender fingers tightened around the reins when he still found no sign of what he sought. He'd seen a few members of Glorfindel's patrol as they panned out to search for Aeglironion and whoever had possibly aided in his escape, though they had not seen their leader since they had nothing to report back to him with yet.

"Ai, Glorfindel..." the chief advisor whispered to himself.

Sudden motion caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and Erestor quickly turned to see a lone white horse pacing in the foliage, emitting a quiet, stressed whinny as it stomped its front hooves anxiously. He immediately stopped his horse, his stomach tightening painfully when he recognized it to be Glorfindel's.

But where was his rider?

The chief advisor urged his horse forward, guiding him through the trees until he reached the second steed. He dismounted his own before approaching his friend's horse, noticing he was skittish as he drew near. He murmured soothing words as he slowly reached a hand out, slowly beginning to run it over the bridge of his long nose. It took a couple minutes, but the horse soon calmed under his touch and at the sound of his quiet voice. A small smile appeared on Erestor's face, though the look instantly vanished as he began to look around. He knew the horse wouldn't leave his master, so the twice-born warrior couldn't be far.

"Glorfindel!" he called, his dark gaze anxiously scanning the area around him. "Glorfindel!"

Then, his breath caught in his chest when a flash of gold caught his eye among the green, and he hurried through the trees before stopping abruptly as his eyes widened with horror.

The Balrog Slayer was slumped on the forest floor, leaning back against a thick tree trunk with the hilt of his sword resting in his limp hand on the ground beside him. His face was alarmingly pale and void of expression, and with how his body was positioned, it appeared as though he had been pursuing someone until he had no longer been able to. Though with his armor, he couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.

"Glorfindel..." Praying he hadn't been too late, Erestor rushed forward and dropped to one knee beside the one person he trusted more than any other, holding his breath as he reached out with slightly trembling fingers and set them on the side of his neck to check for a pulse. An agonized moment passed before he let out a sigh of relief and briefly closed his eyes when he felt a faint, uneven rhythm beneath his fingertips.

Knowing that time was still of the essence since he was uncertain what ill had befallen the twice-born warrior, the chief advisor reached out and took his sword from his loose grasp and carefully sheathed it. Something dark on the ground not far away caught his eye, and he reached out and picked up what appeared to be a small dart of some sort. His eyes narrowed as he inspected it a bit closer, not having seen anything quite like it, before he stowed it securely away. He was uncertain if it was related to Glorfindel's condition, though it was something to show Elrond nonetheless.

Erestor then reached out and firmly grasped his friend's shoulders as he began to carefully pull him away from the tree that had been supporting him, but he paused when he noticed that a spot on the back of the other Elf's neck was inflamed. He studied the reddened and swollen area intently for a moment longer before taking one of Glorfindel's arms and wrapping it around his shoulders. The sooner he could get him to Elrond the better.

The gentle movements caused a near silent groan to pass through the Balrog Slayer's lips as his eyes fluttered open, his light gaze disoriented as he looked around him. "Er... Er... Erestor..."

A small, somber smile appeared on the slender Elf's face when he heard how weak his voice was. "Shh. Save your strength, _mellon-nín_ ," he murmured. "You will be all right." He refused to believe otherwise. His friend had already suffered death once; he would do whatever was in his power to ensure he did not suffer it again.

Glorfindel winced as the chief advisor wound his arm around his back and started to lift him to his feet. "Er... Erestor... two... g-guards..."

"Ai, Glorfindel, please listen to me this once," Erestor said, pausing when the other Elf cringed. "You must save your strength, _mellon-nín_. We may discuss what happened once we reach Elrond."

"A-all... all right..."

Erestor watched as Glorfindel's eyes closed while his head dropped forward onto his chest, and dread flooded through him. Since he knew the Balrog Slayer so well, the ease of his compliance concerned him, for he could see how weak he truly was. He would have to bring him to Elrond with all haste.

Bracing himself, the chief advisor raised the twice-born warrior to a standing position, bearing all his weight with a strength it appeared his thin frame did not possess. He began to make his way toward his horse, careful not to move the other Elf around too much, but he stopped with a wince of his own as he nearly doubled over when the healing stab wound in his side began to throb with pain. He bit his lip as he pushed himself to continue forward, and he let out a long breath once he did reach his horse.

However, he paused before he could start to lift the unconscious Glorfindel up onto him when the sound of approaching horses reached his ears, and he was instantly on alert. His friend had confirmed his suspicions about deceit among his patrol. Erestor slowly started to reach for the sword the golden-haired warrior carried on his hip.

"Erestor?"

The chief advisor stopped at the familiar voice, a hint of a smile appearing at the corner of his lips when he saw the approaching riders. "We were not aware you had left," Elladan continued as he brought his horse to a stop, Elrohir, Legolas, and a few more soldiers doing the same behind him.

"I believed it to be the right course of action," Erestor told him quietly.

Elrohir's gray eyes narrowed with concern when he saw the slender Elf's face was coated with a thin layer of sweat and appeared to be trembling slightly, but then they widened with fear when they landed on the Balrog Slayer. "Glorfindel!"

"We must bring him to your father with all haste," Erestor said when the younger twin leapt from his horse and hurried over to him while the prince followed. "Help me lift him."

"What has happened?" Legolas asked as he and the younger twin took the limp Glorfindel from Erestor and carefully began to lift him onto the chief advisor's horse. "We were alerted that there may have been some deceit among his patrol..."

"Aye, and there was," Erestor confirmed, attempting to keep his voice steady. "I know not what ails Glorfindel since he could not tell me, but he appears ill." He paused, glancing at the older son of Elrond. "Elladan, take your guard and join his patrol. There are two fair-haired Elves wearing our armor I suspect of this treachery. They were the ones who infiltrated the patrol, and I am confident they may have been aiding in Aeglironion's escape. I can only presume they viewed Glorfindel as a threat to their plan and desired to have that threat removed. Report back to us of anything you may find that will lead to any of their whereabouts."

Elladan nodded once before glancing at his younger brother. Elrohir smiled slightly in return. "I will aid in bringing Glorfindel to _Ada_ ," he muttered.

"All right. We will return as soon as we discover something of value," the older twin told them. He then gestured to the soldiers they had brought with them, and they began to make their way through the trees.

Erestor watched them until they were out of sight before he turned back to his horse, seeing Elrohir and Legolas had steadied Glorfindel in the saddle. " _Hannon le_ ," he murmured. He lifted one foot up on the saddle before he paused when his side once again flared with pain. He took a deep breath, pushing the feeling down as he climbed up on the horse behind the Balrog Slayer. "Come. We must get to your father."

Elrohir, though noticing the tenderness of the other Elf's movements, immediately mounted his horse, taking the reins of the twice-born warrior's horse in his hand in order to guide him back as well. Legolas, however, did not move for a moment, simply gazing at the trees that stretched out before him. Aeglironion, the Elf who had hurt his father, was out there somewhere along with those who had aided in his escape, he was certain of it. He could not have been far.

The chief advisor sighed when he noticed the conflicted look on the prince's face. "Legolas, you may aid Elladan in joining Glorfindel's patrol, or you may return with us," he said. "But you must make your decision now. There is no time to spare."

 _"Pwease don't leave, Legowas..."_

Legolas gasped quietly before he tore his gaze away from the trees and moved it to Erestor and Elrohir. "I will... return with you," he replied, though his heart was not in his tone.

Erestor nodded, waiting for the Mirkwood Elf to mount his horse as he turned his attention to Glorfindel leaning back against him. He shifted him a little so his golden head was resting on his shoulder, and as he began to quickly lead the way back toward the walls of Imladris, he felt that his friend's skin was burning.

It was with dread that he realized exactly what was tormenting Glorfindel.

* * *

Elrond's brow furrowed as he lightly applied some of the crushed athelas he'd prepared to the inflamed spot on the back of Glorfindel's neck, knowing it would at least aid in preventing any infection from lingering, before gently setting his head back down on the pillows of the bed in the healing ward. He had been horrified when Erestor, Elrohir, and Legolas had returned with the unconscious Balrog Slayer, claiming he had been poisoned. Since it had not been ingested, the Elf lord had worked to extract and drain the poison from Glorfindel's body himself, and though it had taken some time, he was just relieved that his friend had been brought to him in time. A few minutes more and it potentially could have been too late, which was a possibility he did not want to consider.

The source of where the poison had spread from was immediately evident, though what had struck the twice-born warrior, Elrond was uncertain. He dipped a cloth in a bowl of cool water, wrung it out, and dabbed at Glorfindel's neck and face before folding it and resting it on his burning forehead. Elrohir approached the bed with a smaller bowl he'd prepared, and the master of Imladris took the chamomile to soothe the stubborn fever as he carefully lifted the Balrog Slayer's head and coaxed him to drink the semi-sweet liquid before setting it down again just as gently. Glorfindel's breathing was still slight and uneven, though he was confident that he would recover.

"How does he fare?" Thranduil asked as he slowly approached Elrond at the golden-haired warrior's bedside. Erestor sat across from them in a chair beside the bed, hunched forward a bit with his hand lingering over his left side, while Legolas stood near the window of the room, his light gaze surveying the trees beyond Rivendell's walls. Estel, remaining strangely quiet, was sitting on the floor beside his foster father with one small hand clenching his robes.

Elrond sighed as he met the king's gaze. "Once the fever breaks, I believe he will be all right," he answered. "Fortunately, he was brought to me before the poison could spread too far or cause extensive damage." He set his hand lightly beneath Glorfindel's neck, focusing on transferring some of his healing strength to the other Elf. The inflamed spot was still warm to the touch. "Though I would like to know how this happened."

"Glorfindel was able to confirm that two Elves had infiltrated his patrol," Erestor murmured, his dark eyes not leaving the Balrog Slayer's pale face as he reached out and rested his free hand on his friend's arm. "I believe their deceit was to further aid in Aeglironion's escape." Though his voice was quiet, there was no mistaking the anger in it.

Thranduil tensed, though he could not prevent the guilt from grasping his heart. Not only had some of Elrond's soldiers been regrettably killed because of the rash decision he and the Elf lord had made in Greenwood so long ago, but now Glorfindel, someone who was close to both of their hearts, was suffering and had almost lost his life because of that same choice. "So it would seem that Aeglironion's other banished soldiers had been set in place among us after all."

Elrond met his gaze once more. "So it would appear," he agreed quietly.

Legolas glanced away from the window at these words. He remembered the chief advisor making the same assumption when they had joined him in the forest, but hearing it echoed by his father and Elrond struck a chord. Not only had Aeglironion been responsible for causing his king so much agony, but now Glorfindel as well. If only he could have done more.

Though as his gaze landed on Estel, the child's earlier words resonated with him once more. Aeglironion had lost something, which made him sad, and he was trying to find it. It did not justify his actions, though it caused the prince to wonder if there was some other motivation behind them other than just rage and bitterness about his perceived unjust banishment. Though any pity he may have felt was overshadowed by his own anger at how he had hurt people he loved.

"I would like to know what has struck him," Elrond continued thoughtfully as he turned his attention back to Glorfindel, who appeared to be resting a bit more peacefully now. "That may aid in his further treatment."

Erestor stiffened slightly. As soon as he had seen the red and swollen area on the back of his friend's neck, he was convinced that what he had discovered in the forest had been the source of the poison. He lowered his hand from his side and reached into the pocket of his tunic. "I believe this is what he was struck with," he said, holding his hand out to the Elf lord.

Elrond reached out and took what his chief advisor was offering him, feeling whatever it was was lightweight in his palm. His gray eyes widened in recognition when he gazed down at the small, dark dart he now held, immediately recalling the flicker he had seen earlier. The dread that had come along with it also returned as well as the feeling of a looming danger he could not place a finger on.

Elrohir looked over his father's shoulder, his brow furrowing when he saw the small dart. "What is that, _Ada_?" he asked. However, he did not receive an answer from the Elf lord.

Thranduil took a step closer to Elrond. "May I see that?" he wondered, seeing Legolas draw nearer to them out of the corner of his eye. When the master of Rivendell passed it over to him without a word, he brought the small object closer to his eyes to inspect it better, and his heart nearly stopped as he almost dropped it when his eyes widened with horror.

It was a dart he recognized very clearly, for it was the same kind as the one that had poisoned his father.

 **Author's Note** : So, there we have it! Glorfindel's at least somewhat safe and sound in Imladris, though as we know, things can't stay this way, right? What place dose Aeglironion actually have in this whole plot? And with the discovery of this dart, what does that mean going forward? Is Máfortion truly in charge? We'll have to keep going to find out! Though I will say that this chapter is, more or less, the calm before the second storm, so take that as you will ;) Now, I do have the next chapter all mapped out, but work is going to be kicking my butt all this coming week, so I'll be having a bit less time and energy for a little bit. But, I'll update as quickly as I can! Thanks for reading, guys! See you next time!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Thanks for the awesome response to the last chapter! All the favorites, reviews, and follows mean a lot! I truly appreciate them all!

In response to **Guest** : Thanks for leaving a review! I'm glad you are looking forward to more! And poor Thranduil indeed. That'll still be a thing as we continue in this story, I can guarantee that. Thanks again!

In response to another **Guest** for chapter one: Thank you for the review, as well as for the compliments! Both of those things will continue throughout this story as it gets darker. Thanks again for reading and reviewing!

Just a quick note about this chapter. It has a tad more violence in it than the ones previous, so just be prepared for that. It also dips a bit more into Legolas' not so great frame of mind after the events of the first story, which has only been touched on until this point. It's also longer than I initially thought it would be, but that's okay– a lot happens here. I'm also hoping that kinda makes up for the potential lack of updating for a tiny bit because work's going to be crazy for the next few days, and I'm not sure how much writing I'll be able to get done during that time. But I'm hoping to get it done soon. With all that said, enjoy!

Elvish:

 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _Ada_ – father  
 _tithen pen_ – little one  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _muindor_ – brother  
 _aran-nín_ – my king  
 _mellon-nín_ – my friend  
 _gen fuion_ – you disgust me  
 _be iest lín_ – as you wish  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _suilaid_ – greetings  
 _leithio nín_ – release me  
 _ernil_ – prince

 _Chapter 6_

Golden light spilled into the valley as the sun began its downward trek.

Elrond let out a long, low breath as he made his way down the hall toward his room, leading Estel along with him. He was exhausted. Normally, a night without sleep did not drain him, but he had used much of his energy to sustain Thranduil as well as to give strength to Glorfindel, and the rest of the day had been trying with Aeglironion's escape as well as tending to their fallen soldiers. At least the Balrog Slayer had finally regained consciousness earlier that evening, though with as weary as he still was, there had not been much he had been able to tell him that he had not already known. He was simply relieved that his friend was improving, and he had to admit the feel of his foster son's small hand grasping his own was calming.

Elladan had returned with his guard and Glorfindel's patrol a couple hours before, though it had been with the news that no one had wanted to hear that there had been no sign of Aeglironion or the three Elves who had aided in his escape. And though the sun had not quite yet set, his older son and Erestor had set the night patrol in the forest early as an added precaution.

The Elf lord glanced down at the small mortal walking beside him when his pace slowed a bit, and a small smile appeared on his face when he saw he was rubbing his eyes with his free hand. He had brought him to the kitchens for dinner, not having had much to eat himself, and it was clear he was ready to wash up and get some sleep. "Are you tired, _ion-nín_?" he asked.

Estel nodded as he yawned. "Tiwed, _Ada_ ," he answered, holding his arm out to him.

Elrond stopped and leaned over, picking up the child and holding him close. His smile broadened slightly when Estel snuggled closer and rested his head on his shoulder. "You may sleep with me again this night, _tithen pen_ ," he told him quietly. "Does that appease you?"

"Stay with you," Estel mumbled, closing his eyes and grasping his robes tightly in one hand.

"All right, Estel." The master of Imladris pressed a soft kiss to the top of the boy's head as he rounded the corner that would bring them to his room. Though as he approached the door, his brow furrowed when he felt a familiar presence was there already. He glanced inside, seeing a slender, dark-haired Elf was standing at the window, gazing out into the darkening trees and holding a silver circlet in his hands.

"Elrohir, is everything all right, _ion-nín_?" he wondered as he stepped into the room.

His younger son quickly turned to face them before he nodded. "Aye, everything is fine, _Ada_ ," he said. "I simply wished to discuss something with you, if I may."

"You may, as you always have," Elrond replied as he approached the bed, gently setting the drowsy mortal against the pillows before he picked up the wash basin and the small, light shirt the child wore for sleeping as he sat down beside him. "Though allow me to prepare Estel for sleep first."

Elrohir nodded, a small but fond smile appearing in his fair features as he watched the lord of Imladris dip a cloth in the basin and lightly rinse the boy's face and hands before brushing his fingers through his wild hair and helping him to change out of his tunic and into his sleep shirt. Though the look waned slightly when he noticed how weary his father appeared. Elrond then pulled back the blankets and allowed his foster son to find a comfortable spot on the pillows before covering him up with a small smile of his own.

"Sleep well, _penneth_ ," he muttered, leaning over and leaving another soft kiss on his head. "May your dreams be pleasant."

Estel looked up at him and gave him a sleepy smile in return. "Good night, _Ada_."

Elrohir approached the bed before he too leaned down and lightly kissed the five-year-old's head. "Pleasant dreams, _muindor_."

"Good night, Ewohir."

Elrond's smile lingered as he folded the boy's tunic and neatly set it aside before turning to face the younger twin. "Now, what was it that you wished to discuss with me, Elrohir?" he asked.

Elrohir tore his gray eyes away from Estel, who already appeared to be close to falling asleep, and turned to the Elf lord. "I wanted to tell you how my and Elladan's interrogation of Amonost went," he answered, slowly lowering himself to sit on the floor by his father's feet.

The master of Imladris nodded, though if he were honest, he had to admit he had nearly forgotten his sons had spoken to their remaining prisoner earlier that day after all that had happened. "Yes, I am interested in hearing what he had to say."

A slight smile appeared on Elrohir's face as he met his gaze. "I believe you are correct in saying he has retained his loyalty to you," he told him, keeping his voice lowered so he would not disturb his foster brother. "He still has love and respect for you, _Ada_. And he is relieved that both you and Thranduil are well."

Despite himself, Elrond returned the look. "You have always been perceptive of others, _ion-nín_ ," he muttered. "More so than most. Though that does not explain his actions against us. Tell me, am I correct in thinking that Aeglironion has no intent to return for him?"

Elrohir nodded. "Aye, it appears that Aeglironion took advantage of the friendship that had formed between them and simply used Amonost to enter Imladris," he confirmed. "And Amonost regrets bringing Aeglironion here since he now sees what he intended to do."

Elrond arched an eyebrow. "Are you certain these are not empty words used to lessen the severity of his judgement, _penneth_?" he wondered.

The younger twin, however, remained resolute as he nodded once. "I could see the truth in his words, _Ada_ ," he said. "There was not much about Aeglironion's plan going forward he could share because he does not know, and I believe he would have told us if he did. I sincerely believe he wished to trust in Aeglironion, to believe that he had been able to look beyond his banishment from Greenwood, and that he did not know of his true intent when he brought him here."

The Elf lord appeared to mull this information over before he nodded. "I believe your persuasions, Elrohir," he murmured. "And I will take them into consideration when his judgement is decided. Though if there is nothing of value he could tell us about Aeglironion..."

"There was one thing, _Ada_."

Elrond glanced down at his son curiously. "What would that be?"

Elrohir sighed. "Amonost said that Aeglironion had asked for his aid because he was fearful of something," he explained. "Something that caused him much distress. It was a fear that returned the day he poisoned Thranduil. He claims Aeglironion told him his life could be at risk if he did not do what was asked of him, and he would lose what he was promised. It appears someone had ordered Aeglironion to poison Thranduil."

The master of Imladris' eyes narrowed as he thought this new possibility over. He had to admit it seemed more plausible after what Thranduil had told him about Máfortion and the possibility that he had a hand in the events that had transpired over the past couple of days, especially when he had seen Thranduil's reaction to the dart that had poisoned Glorfindel. No words had been needed to express what that had meant. Much like Elrohir, he was beginning to believe that the words his former guard had spoken were truth.

Though along with what his younger son was now telling him, the dread from the flickers he had seen earlier, the feeling of a danger he could not place, returned.

" _Ada_?"

Elrohir's voice brought him out of his thoughts, and Elrond focused his attention back on him. "Aye, _penneth_?"

"Do you believe this to be true?" Elrohir asked, leaning a little closer to him. "Do you believe someone has been ordering Aeglironion to commit these acts?"

The Elf lord waited for a moment to answer before he sighed. "Aye, Elrohir, I do," he finally answered in nearly a whisper, glancing down at Estel when he stirred in his sleep beside him. He reached out, resting a tender hand on his head. "And that is what concerns me."

Elrohir's brow furrowed. "Do you know who it is?" he pressed.

Elrond turned back to his younger son, reaching out with his free hand and setting it gently on his cheek. "I do," he confirmed. "Though I want you to listen to me closely, _ion-nín_. I have said these words once, though I will tell them to you again. I do not wish for you to dwell on this, Elrohir. Thranduil and I will do what we must should the need arise. It is my hope that this should not need to concern you. Do I have your word?"

The younger twin sighed, though he nodded. "Aye, _Ada_ ," he agreed quietly.

"Good." Elrond smiled as he removed his hand from his cheek. "Is that all you wished to discuss with me?"

"Aye, that was all," Elrohir replied as he got to his feet.

"All right." The Elf lord smiled. "Have a pleasant night, Elrohir."

"Have a pleasant night, _Ada_." Elrohir watched as his father turned his attention back to the slumbering mortal before he sighed and slowly left the room, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

 _Thranduil stood beside Oropher, who despite still being weakened from the poison that had ravaged his body only a short day before, stood straight with his shoulders squared and his head held high. Aearion, chief advisor to the Greenwood monarchs, stood on his other side with Thalion, captain of Greenwood's defenses. Before them with his hands bound before him, knelt Máfortion, his black hair tied loosely back behind his head, with armed guards standing on either side of him._

 _The prisoner laughed under the stern, heated gazes of the four Elves that stood above him. "So,_ aran-nín _. Your will is to banish me?" he murmured, keeping his head lowered._

 _Oropher tilted his head a bit higher. "Aye, that is my decree," he confirmed before turning his gaze to Aeglironion and Erynion, who stood at the ready. "Take him from my sight."_

 _Both guards immediately reached down and grasped Máfortion's arms right above the elbows, though he did not budge when they attempted to pull him to his feet. "'Tis such a shame, Oropher," he continued with another chuckle, though his tone was anything but sincere. "Do you not recall our time spent in Doriath? How long I have willingly served you,_ mellon-nín _?"_

 _"Any such friendship is long behind us," the king told him sternly. "Any appeal to what once was will not persuade me. After what you have done, you are fortunate I have decided your judgement to be banishment."_

 _Máfortion allowed himself to be pulled to his feet by the insistent Aeglironion and Erynion, though he continued to keep his face turned to the floor. "You think you are mighty, Oropher. You believe to be untouchable. Though you could be no more fallible," he said quietly. "And one day, the people who so naively chose to bow to you will see that you do not deserve the crown that adorns your fair head."_

 _"You had best choose your words wisely," Aearion advised from beside Oropher, his light eyes narrowing dangerously._

 _"For what purpose? My words can no longer harm me." Máfortion laughed again. "Ai, Aearion, you fool. You still so blindly stand by your friend the king's side as you always have..."_

 _Aearion's fair features darkened, though he was prevented by saying anything more by Oropher's hand on his arm. "Take him from my sight," the latter ordered once more, nodding to Thalion to urge him forward to help the two guards in removing the prisoner from his throne room._

 _Though once more, Máfortion stood fast. "I assure you, Oropher, I will have my recompense," he stated, finally raising his gaze to meet the king's. Thranduil's heart dropped when he saw his eyes, the right piercingly green and full of hate while the left was clouded, a fresh scar across the skin. The prisoner smirked when he saw the prince's wariness. "Though if you would rather, I am certain your son could atone for your actions,_ mellon-nín _. Mayhap his blood on your hands will show you how vulnerable you truly are–!"_

 _His words were abruptly silenced when Oropher, moving so suddenly that no one could stop him, was upon him, roughly grabbing his tunic with both hands as he leaned close to him. "Do not_ dare _threaten my son," the king said in a voice hardly above a whisper. "Do you understand me? He has no part in what transpired between us all that time ago."_

 _However, Máfortion simply laughed in his former friend and king's face, which only served to raise Oropher's ire. However, the latter could do nothing more when Aearion approached and grasped his arms, pulling him back from the prisoner while Aeglironion and Erynion dragged Máfortion a few strides back. Thalion stood between the two groups to ensure tempers did not flare while Thranduil watched the scene in stunned silence._

 _"No,_ hir-nín _," the chief advisor muttered in as placating a tone as he could muster through his own fury. "He is not worth it."_

 _Oropher took a moment to collect himself before he straightened out of his friend's hold, regarding Máfortion with a piercing glare. "_ Gen fuion _," he hissed._

 _The prisoner smirked as he was dragged away from the throne by the two guards and their captain, his one seeing eye fixated on the two monarchs while his boisterous laughter filled the halls._

The sound of his haunting laughter ringing through the palace halls that day echoed in Thranduil's ears as he gazed down at the small, dark dart he held in his palm in the minimal sunlight left that filtered into his room. There had been a part of him ever since his confrontation with Aeglironion earlier that morning that hoped his former guard had been mistaken, that Máfortion did not have a hand in orchestrating these events, that it had been a lie made to deceive him. Though now that he held this weapon, this same kind of dart that had once poisoned his father, he knew there had been no mistake. This was a message meant for him, and as much as he regretted that Glorfindel had been used to send it and as thankful as he was that he would recover, there was no mistaking what it meant.

Máfortion was coming for him, biding his time and not caring who he had to hurt to claim what he desired.

The king thought back to the last time he had seen the traitorous Elf and the heated words that had been exchanged between him and his father. Máfortion had wanted something from Oropher, and he had been willing to take his life in place of what his father had to give to repay that. Something had happened between them that his former guard had blamed the king for, and that bitterness had only grown to hatred and had caused him to want to end both his and his father's lives.

Thranduil sighed heavily as he closed his eyes and placed his forehead against the cool windowpane. There had to be some way for him to uncover what Máfortion had faulted Oropher for, though he could not see his father having deliberately caused the other Elf harm. Though perhaps if he figured that out, if he were to confront him, no one else would have to suffer.

Máfortion's piercingly green eye flashed through his memory, causing his eyes to snap open.

" _Ada_?"

Thranduil straightened and turned around, a slight smile appearing on his face when he saw who was standing hesitantly in the doorway. "Legolas, _ion-nín_ , I did not hear you," he muttered. "Come in."

The prince lingered back for a moment longer before he slowly stepped inside. His light gaze immediately moved to his father's closed left hand. "Is everything all right, _Ada_?" he wondered.

"Aye, there is nothing to concern yourself with, _penneth_." Thranduil's eyes narrowed slightly when he saw where his son was looking. "Are _you_ all right?"

Legolas stopped a short distance away from him. "What is that, _Ada_?" he asked, gesturing to his closed hand. "I know it has significance to you, there is nothing to persuade me to believe otherwise. This attack meant something to you."

Thranduil steadily met his son's gaze. "Legolas, this is something that should not concern you," he answered.

"But it has significance to you," the prince pressed, reaching out and lightly taking the king's hand in his. He unfurled his slender, ringed fingers, gazing down at the dart he held. He then reached out to take it to get a better look at it, but his father pulled it out of his grasp. Sighing, he looked up at him again. "Please, _Ada_. I simply wish to know what importance this has since there has not been much else you have told me."

Though as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Legolas inwardly berated himself for speaking them, even though he could not tell how Thranduil felt hearing them since his still paler face remained impassive. He had meant no disrespect, though he could not deny his frustrations at not knowing who was threatening the king's life when part of his obligation was to protect it.

A long moment passed before Thranduil sighed himself, setting the dart down on the small table beside the bed next to his crown. "Very well," he said, a note of authority to his tone as he cast his gaze back to his son. "You wish to know about what this is? You wish to know who it belongs to?" He briefly paused, wearily closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before continuing. "When I was prince of Greenwood, an assassination attempt was made on my father with a dart of this same make. The one responsible was an Elf named Máfortion, who was a friend of my father's from our days in Doriath and a former captain in Greenwood's forces. Though he did not feel we deserved the crowns, so he attempted to end our lives. He was banished by my father for his actions."

Legolas gazed back at the king with slightly wider eyes as he took all of this information in. "That is horrible," he murmured, mainly to himself before meeting Thranduil's gaze. "You believe Máfortion is responsible for what has happened since we have arrived here?"

"Elrond and I believe that may be possible," Thranduil conceded. "Aeglironion, in essence, has told me that Máfortion is waiting for me. I presume what ill he carried for my father he now carries for me."

"We must find him, then," Legolas said, beginning to pace a little. " _Ada_ , we must find him before he causes more harm."

However, the king shook his head slightly. "No, Legolas..."

" _Ada_ , we must do something if this attack was meant as a message for you," Legolas continued. "We cannot do nothing."

"That will not be the case, _ion-nín_ ," Thranduil replied, his tone remaining steady even as he briefly massaged his temples. "Elrond and I will do what must be done. This is a matter that you need not concern yourself with, _penneth_."

But Legolas was not ready to accept a passive role. "If Máfortion is commanding Aeglironion and others who aided in his escape, your life is at risk, and as I see it, this matter does concern me," he told him. "As your captain, I must–!"

"Then as your king, I forbid it." Though his voice was not raised, his words came out in a firmer, harsher tone than he had intended, and Thranduil regretted them the moment he saw a look he could not read pass over his son's features.

Legolas lingered for a moment before he cast his gaze to the floor and bowed his head. " _Be iest lín_." He then turned to leave the room.

Thranduil took a deep breath when he heard the defeat in his son's tone. "Legolas."

The prince stopped, though he did not look back. "Aye, _Ada_?" he wondered.

"Listen to me, _ion-nín_ ," Thranduil continued, his tone gentle. "Your devotion to me and to my defense is something I have never doubted. I understand your desire to aid me. But you know nothing of this matter, and that is what I am attempting to spare you from. As your father, I am protecting you, _penneth_. In this one instance, I need you to stand down for your own safety." After all, he had almost lost his father to Máfortion, who had been more than willing to take his life to hurt Oropher. He could not take the same risk with his own son.

Legolas slowly glanced over his shoulder when he heard the king's voice falter, and he saw with concern that his face had grown a couple shades paler and one hand was lingering near his stomach. He instantly felt most of the tension leave his shoulders. "Aye, _Ada_ ," he muttered with a slight nod. "I understand."

Undeniable relief crossed Thranduil's features as he nodded in return, and a hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips as he watched his son leave the room. As soon as the prince was gone, the look vanished as he reached out and and leaned on the small table when the dizziness once again threatened to overtake him. He took a couple deep breaths before lowering himself to sit on the bed, his gaze resting on the darkening trees outside of his window. A sudden dread was settling over his heart, and it was one he could not shake.

 _Ai,_ ion-nín _... listen to my words... please, Legolas... Do not put yourself at risk for me... please,_ ion-nín _..._

* * *

Erestor made his way down the nearly empty hallway, a bowl of hot broth, one slice of bread, a piece of fruit, and a glass of water in his hands. His pace was quick and with purpose, which brought him to the healing ward in good time, though he slowed a bit as he approached the open door and gazed at the single occupant inside.

Glorfindel was mostly sitting up on the bed, leaning back against the pillows behind him, with a thin book perched against his legs as he attempted to read in the faint, lingering rays of sunlight as well as the lit candle on the small table beside the bed. Though his light eyes, which were dimmer than normal and had dark shadows beneath them, were resting on the faded pages before him, they seemed somewhere far away, and there was a notable sense of sorrow and weariness in his pale, gaunt features.

A moment passed before the chief advisor cleared his throat and stepped inside the room.

The Balrog Slayer glanced up at the quiet sound, and a small but genuine smile appeared at the corner of his lips as he closed the book. "Elrond was kind enough to bring me something to pass the time," he said, setting it aside on the table before he glanced at his friend. "Though it is good to see you, _mellon-nín_."

Erestor returned the look as he approached the bed. "As it is you," he replied. "It is good to see you awake." He glanced down at the food he had brought. "I thought you might appreciate this."

Glorfindel's smile broadened. "Normally it is I who must remind _you_ to eat when you are so absorbed in your work," he muttered as he accepted the bowl the other Elf offered him. "Though this was kind of you, I am uncertain if I will be able to handle it all."

"Do not fret," Erestor told him as he lightly sat down on the edge of the bed near the golden-haired warrior, placing the water and the bread on the table as well. "The fruit is for me." He smirked when he saw his friend's gaze pass over his slender frame. "I already partook in the evening meal, _mellon-nín_ , do not give me that look."

"I am uncertain what you would do without me, Erestor. Someone has to look after you." Glorfindel chuckled before taking a small, cautious spoonful of the broth.

"Aye, as someone does you," the chief advisor countered as he took a bite of the fruit. A small smile returned to his face when the Balrog Slayer conceded his agreement with a slight shrug.

The two friends sat and ate in silence for a few minutes before Glorfindel sighed. "I heard from Elrond that it was you who came for me and found me," he stated, reaching over and picking up the slice of bread before breaking a small piece off and dipping it in the broth.

Erestor's dark gaze faltered. The image of the three deceased guards he had discovered flashed through his mind quickly followed by one of his Noldorin daggers, and he sighed when the echo of distant pained and fearful screams rang in his ears. "Aye, what you have heard is true."

"That was brave of you, _mellon-nín_ ," Glorfindel said, a gleam in his eye as he lowered the half-empty bowl of broth. The cheerful look vanished, the hint of sorrow the slender Elf had seen in his visage earlier once again returning. "The fault for what occurred, for the lives lost, is mine. I should have been more watchful."

"Do not be ridiculous, Glorfindel," Erestor replied with narrowed eyes, a hint of the scolding tone he was notorious for slipping into his voice. "I regret the lives we have lost as much as you, though the fault lies with those who aided in Aeglironion's escape. And..." He briefly paused when the image of the twice-born warrior leaning against a tree, pale as death and unmoving, flashed through his mind. "I am simply relieved I found you before it was too late. I... I almost..."

Glorfindel paused after he took another small spoonful of broth, his gaze softening in understanding as he set the bowl aside on the table when he saw the look on the other Elf's face that was on the verge of anxious. "Do not break your vow on my behalf, _mellon-nín_ ," he told him quietly.

The chief advisor looked back at him, somewhat startled, before uncertainty appeared in his gaze. "I nearly did," he murmured, lowering his gaze. "The dreams... they have returned..."

The golden-haired warrior remembered how distressed Erestor had been the previous night when he had heard the glass ink vial shatter in his room as well as when he had discovered him in the library. It made sense to him now that it had been the recurring dark dreams of the past responsible for causing him to wake in such a state, most likely brought on by the stress of the threat within their own walls. A small smile appeared on his face as he reached out and set a light hand on the slender Elf's clenched one. He was glad Erestor had finally confided in him. As he had promised to himself so long ago after his friend had made the vow to never use his knives again, he would do everything he could to ensure he kept his word.

"I am here for you, _mellon-nín_ , as I always have been," Glorfindel said. "You need not go against your word on this day. Not if I may prevent it."

Erestor looked back at the Balrog Slayer for a long moment before he let out a long breath, a hint of a smile appearing at the corner of his lips as his hand relaxed before he grasped his friend's in return. " _Hannon le_."

* * *

Elrond gasped as his eyes cleared, realizing that his exhaustion must have caused him to lightly doze leaning back against the pillows of his bed beside the sleeping Estel. He blinked a couple times in attempt to clear his vision, seeing soft light from the full moon was now filtering into the otherwise dark room since his candle had been extinguished. Though something had woken him.

Then, a second loud, anxious pounding on his door disrupted the silence, and quickly making sure that the sound did not disturb his resting foster son, the Elf lord got to his feet and hurried across the room before pulling open the door. "What is the meaning of..." he began, but his question trailed off as his gray eyes widened when he saw one of the guards in the night patrol, standing hunched forward and breathing heavily as his body trembled slightly, looking back at him with a dim gaze.

"I beg your pardon... _hir-nín_..." he gasped out as Elrond reached out and set supportive hands on his arms. "Orcs... in the forest... ambushed..."

* * *

Thranduil stood in his open doorway, watching with mounting concern as the twins hurriedly prepared their guard to come to the aid of the night patrol. Elladan finished ensuring his quiver of arrows was secure around his torso while Elrohir slid his sword into its sheath before they led their forces out of sight. He knew it was a rare feat for Orcs to draw so near to Imladris' borders, as well as to catch their defenses off guard, and it was that reason he could not quell a sudden feeling of dread.

Another thought occurred to him then, and hoping against hope he was wrong, the king stepped out into the hallway and knocked lightly on the door of the room beside his. "Legolas?" he called. " _Penneth_?"

When he got no answer after a long moment, Thranduil reached out and pushed open the door, and his heart nearly stopped at what he saw in the moonlight filling the room.

The bed was empty. His son's bow was not where it had been resting at the foot of it. Legolas was gone.

* * *

Erestor stood at the window of the healing ward, his face impassive as his dark eyes followed Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas as they led the twins' guard in the direction of the gate. He had to admit he had been surprised to hear an Orc pack had gotten as close as they had to the Imladris borders, for it did not happen often. Though with the combined forces of the night patrol and Elladan and Elrohir's troop, it would hopefully not be a large problem.

He glanced over his shoulder, seeing in the minimal light that Glorfindel was still resting soundly, his eyes closed and his breathing short and even. The chief advisor smiled slightly to himself, almost relieved that his friend was oblivious to what was now happening at their borders. With as weak as he was and as much pain as he was experiencing, as well as guilt, he did not need something else to burden him down further. He was confident that their forces could eradicate the threat before the Balrog Slayer could wake come first light.

Though as he turned back to the window and watched the last of the guard disappear from sight, Erestor's brow furrowed when a sense of dread he couldn't place settled over his heart.

* * *

Elladan stood in a small clearing, swiftly drawing another arrow before releasing it, satisfied when it struck another approaching Orc in the forehead. Elrohir stepped lightly while he moved fluidly around him, spinning as he cut down any of the foul creatures that were not hit with one of his brother's arrows. The movements they made together were effortless in their harmony, almost dance-like, though they were just as deadly as they were alluring as the twins made quick work of the Orcs they had come across in the dark trees.

The older son of Elrond lowered his bow after the last creature fell, his hand also lingering near the hilt of his blade on his hip as his gray gaze surveyed the forest around them. Elrohir twirled his sword once as he did the same.

"Come. There are more this way," Elladan muttered, tilting his head west when the sound of another skirmish reached his ears.

Elrohir nodded as he began to follow his twin through the trees in the direction of where some of their forces were engaged with more of the Orc pack. But then, he stopped when sudden movement caught his eye from above, and he cast his gaze to the tree beside him. "Elladan!" he called in warning.

His twin quickly stopped and turned, barely able to draw an arrow just as one of the creatures descended on him with his broad sword drawn, the force sending them both to the hard forest floor. Elladan cringed when the tip of the blade sliced across his stomach, as well as from the horrid smell of the Orc's rotting breath in his face, before he stabbed the creature in the neck with the arrow he'd drawn. The Orc shrieked with pain as it scrambled back, and Elladan swiftly maneuvered so that he was now positioned over his enemy, drawing his dagger and plunging it into its chest in one fluid motion.

"Are you all right?" Elrohir asked as he approached the pair.

Elladan stood as soon as the Orc stopped moving, breathing slightly heavier as he slipped his dagger back into its sheath. He then glanced down, seeing there were faint traces of crimson on his deep blue tunic from the laceration on his abdomen. "Aye, _muindor_ ," he answered quietly as he glanced back at him, rolling out his shoulders slightly. "'Tis not serious."

Elrohir sighed as he nodded, warily glancing up at the trees around them before he began to follow his brother. But then, he stopped abruptly again when cackling reached his ears, and he turned in time to see a few more Orcs quickly approaching them from the shadows. He raised his sword to block the broad blade of the first creature's weapon, quickly spinning before stabbing the Orc in the stomach.

The older twin stopped and turned when he heard the scuffle, reaching back to draw an arrow before pausing when Elrohir shook his head.

"No! I can handle these," his younger brother said, swiftly decapitating the first Orc before blocking the attack of the second. "Aid the others. I will join you shortly."

Elladan lingered for a moment, watching as Elrohir exchanged a couple hits with the creature before he blocked an attack from another approaching from the side. When his twin stabbed one of them through the chest, he nodded before he turned and hurried on to reach a larger group of the Orc pack.

Elrohir nimbly stepped around the attacking third Orc, ducking beneath its broad sword before piercing it through the back from behind with his own blade. The creature dropped at his feet, and he tilted his head to the side to avoid a black arrow that had been fired at him by the final Orc in this small band. He smirked, twirling his sword once before he leapt over the bodies and sliced through the creature's abdomen, stabbing it once through the chest for added measure before it also collapsed at his feet. He surveyed the dead Orcs around him, casting his gray eyes to the trees around him to search for any others who may have been lingering. Seeing none, he lowered his blade before he began to head in the direction of where his brother had gone.

A near silent sound reached his ears, causing him to pause. Elrohir's brow furrowed as he began to turn over his shoulder.

Suddenly, a sharp, burning pain spread through his right side as a crushing blow was delivered to his ribs by a blunt object, and he cried out as he dropped his sword and crumpled to his knees. He hunched forward, the throbbing in his midsection making it nearly impossible to stay upright, and his breath caught in his chest when a thin blade of a small knife pricked his throat.

Dread flooded through him at the realization that it was not an Orc weapon.

* * *

Legolas nimbly leapt from tree branch to tree branch, effortlessly finding a secure foothold each time as he kept his gaze on the members of Elladan and Elrohir's guard he was accompanying below. When he had heard of the attack at the borders, he had immediately offered his help in handling the threat. The twins had accepted, though he could not deny the slight guilt that he felt that he had not approached his father on the matter.

The conversation he'd had with the king not long before continued to replay in his mind, and though he understood Thranduil's stance, it did not settle well with him to not do what he could to help his father while his life was at risk. However, he had forbade him to seek out Máfortion. He had not said a word about helping his friends in an Orc attack.

Then, Legolas paused when a black arrow shot past him, very near to his face, and he glanced down to see a small band of Orcs gathered beneath him. Having been so deep in thought, he had not realized he had gotten away from the Rivendell guard. But these few creatures would not be difficult for him to handle.

The prince swiftly drew an arrow and shot the Orc archer in the forehead, immediately shooting a second before he leapt down from the tree branch while drawing one of his twin knives, quickly spinning as he sliced the throat of one of the remaining Orcs before stabbing the last one in the chest. He twirled the knife in his slender fingers as he watched all the foul creatures collapse around him in satisfaction before he slid it back into its sheath. It had almost been too simple.

He then quickly glanced over his shoulder when he heard loud shrieks coming from behind him, reaching back and drawing an arrow before loosing it into the neck of an Orc still quite a distance away. Legolas fired two more in quick succession, watching as they each struck the other two creatures that had been behind the first. He then surveyed the forest around him, knowing that the Rivendell patrol and the rest of the Orc pack couldn't have been too far, though he also found the area to be strangely quiet.

Then, he caught some movement out of the corner of his eye, and the prince turned to see a flash of long, fair hair in the faint moonlight through the trees not far from him. His hand immediately tightened around his bow as he drew another arrow. _Aeglironion_? Had he spurred the Orcs into action to attack Imladris' borders?

His ire rising, Legolas loosed the arrow in the direction of the traitorous Elf, inwardly cursing when he heard it stick fast into the trunk of a tree instead. Sighing, he went to retrieve it, though before he could reach it, the quiet sound of a twig snapping caused him to pause.

A brief moment passed before the prince fluidly pulled one of his twin knives out of its sheath and spun around, raising it to block the blade of a dagger that had been aiming for the back of his neck. His eyes widened with surprise when he found himself facing a blond-haired Elf, though even through the cruel smirk he was regarding him with, it was clear it was not Aeglironion.

" _Suilaid_ , Prince Legolas."

Dread gripped Legolas' heart that this strange Elf knew his name, but he grit his teeth as he forced his dagger back from him. Before he could strike himself, he cried out with surprise when the hilt of a second dagger connected solidly with his temple, causing his vision to momentarily fade and sway as he dropped to one knee and lost the hold on his own knife as well as his bow.

"Well done, Suiauthon. He will be pleased," the first fair-haired Elf said as a second grinned down at the prince and twirled his dagger once.

" _Hannon le_ , Eruantien," the other Elf replied, his brown eyes gleaming as he sheathed his dagger before roughly grabbing onto Legolas' arm.

The prince resisted as he attempted to pull away while Eruantien grabbed onto him as well, cringing when his arms were wrenched behind his back. " _Leithio nín_!" he demanded harshly through gritted teeth.

"Calm yourself, _ernil_ ," Suiauthon murmured, a malicious glint in his blue eyes.

Legolas continued to struggle, however, until a sharp slap from Eruantien caused him to pause. Though he attempted to remain calm, to not show fear to his captors, his heart was racing nearly as fast as his mind was. If Aeglironion was not behind the Orc attack, who was?

Quiet footsteps reached his ears, and the prince watched with dread as a brown-haired Elf approached them, dragging a black-haired figure along with him. "We have one more," Anessen announced, his grin spreading to his brown eyes as he roughly threw the limp figure to the ground in front of them.

It only took Legolas a second to recognize the second figure as he watched him clamp his arms tightly around his midsection and try not to cry out. "Elrohir..." he whispered fearfully.

"I presume by the circlet he wears that he is one of Elrond's sons. Well done."

Legolas' breath caught in his chest when he heard the unexpected deep voice, for it did not belong to one of their three captors. He raised his gaze to the shadows cast by a few trees ahead of him, able to hardly make out the outline of another figure there. It was with dread he wondered how long he had been there, silently watching them.

"And even if you had not mentioned his name, Eruantien, I would have had no doubt who you have brought me. The resemblance to those who came before him is striking."

The prince watched as the shadowed figure took a couple steps forward, seeing in the moonlight that he had black hair tied back behind his head and paler features as he stopped right in front of him. But it was his eyes that caught Legolas' attention.

The right was piercingly green as it gazed down on him with hatred. The left, which had a faded scar running through it, was clouded over.

 **Author's Note** : So, this is probably the worst cliffhanger yet, huh? Typically, this isn't the route I would go, but it's leading up to something, so be prepared for that (the focus of this story is not a Legolas kidnapping, lol)! I really am evil, aren't I? Though on a lighter note, I may have to write more battle scenes in this story or others with Elladan and Elrohir; they are a lot of fun to write in that scenario. But, as I said in the first author's note, please bear with me for a little bit if the next chapter doesn't come super quickly. As I said, I hope I can get it done somewhat quick, but there's no telling for sure with this work schedule and the craziness that comes with it. However, it'll be up soon-ish! So, after that really evil cliffhanger, I'll see you guys next time!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Oh, my gosh, guys! You certainly know how to make a writer's week when she's sick and had a stressful work schedule (and it's the being sick that caused the delay with this chapter– sorry, guys!). I'm stunned but couldn't be more thrilled by the response to this story (especially since it's been so long since the first was posted; I'm blown away by the patience and support you guys are showing for this)! HUGE _hannon le_ out to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed! You guys are seriously incredible. I hope this story continues to be as awesome as all of you have expressed it is!

In response to **Maple** for all three reviews: Aww, thank you for the compliment! I hope this is worth the wait! Yeah, Legolas isn't in the greatest of spots for the time being, I'm afraid. He should have! Though, in his defense and despite him not being in the greatest state of mind, he didn't go after Máfortion exactly, though I'd say it's what drove him to help with the Orc attack. Oh, yes, without a doubt, Thranduil's heart would break should something happen to Legolas. He's really the only family he has left, and he already almost lost his father to Máfortion. Poor Thranduil indeed. Good, the part where he thought of offering himself to Máfortion so no one else would have to suffer was supposed to sound slightly ominous ;) I agree with you, he would do this without a second thought, and he'd give his own life for Legolas' without any thought at all. Yeah, it won't be good at all if Máfortion gets his hands on Thranduil, considering that's what he's after. Aww, you're welcome, I'm happy to share it! I'm just happy that it's loved! Thank you for reviewing!

Oh, wow, I'm glad it's good enough to go back and read over more than once! Lol. Ah, yes, that fateful scene with Thranduil and Aeglironion in the holding room. I'm glad you got that feeling out of it because that's exactly what that scene was supposed to do– drive home what's going to happen if Máfortion and company get what they want. Which is basically Thranduil at their mercy. Yup, Aeglironion's actions were daring, to say the least. Though as he kinda has been since toward the end of the first story, he's a desperate man (well, Elf... but y'know, lol). There's been a couple clues as to why, but we'll get into more of it soon! Yeah, it's an ominous threat to say the least– death's too easy, so he's going to suffer dearly first. Not a good thing at all! Thank you so much, I really appreciate you saying so! It's my pleasure! Thank you for reading and reviewing, I'm glad you love it!

Hi! It seriously makes my day that you find this story good enough to continue to reread while you wait for me to get my butt in check with this chapter. Oh, good, I'm glad you love the theme of hurt Thranduil and protective Legolas since it was one I wanted to focus on for both of these stories, and it's really been a lot of fun to work with. Thank you for saying so! I agree with you, it is hard to find a story where Thranduil isn't portrayed as a cold, evil, egotistical, and abusive father and ruler. I'm glad you like this Thranduil so much!

In response to **Guest** : You're welcome, it was my pleasure! Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you love this story! Thank you so much for saying so– I've seen quite a few good writers here, so I really appreciate that compliment. And the compliment about Thranduil's character means a lot to me, too. Characterization is something I focus a lot on, and he's one that I try to keep as close to book canon as possible. So thank you for saying so, I'm glad you love him and that he's coming across so well! Yeah, he was very kind-hearted despite the hardships his kingdom faces. Yes! That's one good example of how much kindness he possesses. I know, I see so many characterizations of Thranduil that just bother me to no end. So, I really appreciate your compliments on mine!

In response to another **Guest** : I'm so happy you loved this chapter (despite the cliffhanger, haha), and thank you so much for your review! Yeah, Elrohir and Legolas aren't in a good spot for the time being. Thranduil will definitely have a choice ahead of him– despite his condition, he's going to want to go after them, because yeah, sitting around and waiting isn't in his nature, especially when it comes to his son and a friend. Lol, questions are good for now, since I hope they will all be answered as we keep going (not sure how many I'd be able to answer without spoiling anything ;) Lol)! Thank you for the compliment on Thranduil's character being like how Tolkien wrote him– Thranduil is my favorite Tolkien character, and he's one I've studied pretty closely. Though all characters are ones that I try to keep as in character as I can, Thranduil gets a lot of my attention in that regard since I see so many stories where his characterization just really annoys me. So I'm glad you like his character here! I agree with you about Thranduil loving and protecting Legolas well as he grew up; I don't see him being any other way with his son at all. I agree with that, too. Legolas is a skilled warrior, but it certainly seems like he hasn't experienced the same sort of horrors of war that Thranduil has. Thank you again, I hope this next chapter is good as well!

In response to **CoffeeRanger** for both reviews: Lol, I'll consider not knowing the right word to call me (though I think we've settled on evil and horrible, haha) a compliment in this case ;) Well, there will still be more little hints scattered throughout, but we're also close to starting to get some actual answers to the motivations and involvement of Máfortion, Aeglironion, and others, so hang in there! I will say that things aren't always as they seem in some cases, though ;) Thank you for the compliment on these chapters! Yeah, cute little Estel has to have his moments, that's for sure! Gotta love this kid. Yes! Erestor got to Glorfindel in time... for the most part ;) He'll survive, at least, lol.

And yes, I know I'm evil with this story, trust me, lol. Uh-oh. What kind of characters are we talking about so I know how much danger I'm in with this kidnapping? Aww, what fun would it be to spoil how the rest of this story goes? :P Please don't die, that wouldn't be good, lol. But yes, everyone is in danger! That was something I really kinda wanted to expand on this story, since the danger's a bit higher in this one than in the first. No one is safe from Máfortion's madness, that's for sure. Cliffys tend to be my strong point ;) Yup, Glorfindel's okay, at least okay enough! I'm glad that you mentioned that part about Erestor and what happened to him that made him swear that oath. This past that he's trying to keep the door closed on will certainly be busted wide open in the coming chapters. Yes, Legolas and Elrohir are in dire straits, Estel cannot leave Elrond's side (well... he did kinda get kidnapped in the first... so he *might* get a pass this time around), and Thranduil and Elrond are having horrible feelings and are more or less prepping to attack. The situation's gotten pretty volatile, gotta admit. But yay, I'm glad you liked Estel's adorableness (have to have some light moments, after all, and he's the perfect avenue for them)! I'm happy you liked the flashback with Oropher! I agree with you, I would love to see more authors use him since he's such a fascinating character (and one of those underrated ones). It's not the first time I've written with him in a story, but I've missed doing so, so I really wanted to bring him back a little bit in this one, lol. I can also recommend a really good Oropher story if you'd like! Oh, good, I'm also glad you enjoyed the more of a touch on Glorfindel and Erestor's friendship. It's one of my favorites to work with, and I felt like there was a little in "Tainted," but it was something I wanted to expand a bit more on in this one. I'm glad you found the update, too, and I'm glad you enjoyed it! Ugh, I hate summer colds (I have one, too! Lol. That's partly why this chapter was a bit longer in coming...), so I'm glad I was able to help distract you from it! You're very welcome, thank you for the reviews, which I was super happy to see! I hope this chapter makes up for the wait!

So, after that really evil cliffhanger, let's see what happens next, shall we? Enjoy!

* * *

Elvish:

 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _muindor_ – brother  
 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _Ada_ – father  
 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _tithen pen_ – little one  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _aran-nín_ – my king  
 _Naneth_ – mother  
 _meleth-nín_ – my love  
 _le melin_ – I love you

 _Chapter 7_

Elladan lowered his bow after the last Orc crumpled to the ground a few feet away from him after being struck in the forehead with an arrow, his gray gaze passing over the rest of his guard that had followed him, Elrohir, and Legolas to deal with the threat at their borders. Though some minor injuries had been suffered, there fortunately had not been any casualties.

But something was wrong.

A growing sense of dread that had begun to settle over his heart during the end of the skirmish with the foul creatures had now become nearly unbearable when he saw that his brother, as well as their Mirkwood friend, was still not counted among the rest of the Elves around him. He quickly turned in the direction of where he had last seen him, able to hear that all was quiet. His heart skipped a beat. Though he completely trusted Elrohir's ability in combat, especially when it came to handling a few Orcs, he knew he should have gone back for him. He never should have even left him...

"Elrohir!" he called. "Elrohir! Legolas!"

However, the trees remained quiet. Not even a whisper answered his call.

His trepidation rising, the older son of Elrond turned to face the rest of their guard, seeing they were gazing back at him with clear concern. "Spread out and search the forest," he commanded, his voice wavering slightly despite his best efforts to keep it steady. "Report back to me immediately when you find them." _When_ , he had to reiterate to himself as the rest of the soldiers dispersed. He refused to allow himself to think anything different.

Though no matter how concerned he was about their unsettling absence, he knew in his heart, at his very core, that his twin still lived. And that gave him hope.

"Ai, _muindor_ ," Elladan whispered, tightening his hold on his bow before he started to run through the trees himself in the direction of where he had last seen Elrohir. He effortlessly leapt over a couple of protruding tree roots as his route took him down a gentle incline, though when he reached the clearing where the small group of Orcs had nearly ambushed them, he found it to be abandoned save a few dead Orc bodies. He knew these must have been the ones that Elrohir had offered to take on alone, though there was no sign of his brother.

"Where are you, Elrohir?"

Then, Elladan hissed in surprise when a sudden twinge of pain spread through his right side. He set a hand over the affected area, feeling as though the mild sensation was not his own. The unease that had been growing in his heart slowly slipped into panic, and he quickly looked around the clearing before him with wide eyes.

"Elrohir!" he cried, no longer caring how his voice broke. " _Elrohir_!"

But just like the first time, he was not granted with a response. Something was very wrong.

"Lord Elladan! Come quickly!"

Filled with uncertainty about whether the news the other Elf had to share with him was ill or favorable, Elladan spun and ran through the trees in the direction the voice had come from. His step was hindered ever so slightly by the shadow of pain that lingered in his side, though he did his best to ignore it as he pushed forward until he reached an even smaller clearing where two members of his guard were waiting for him. There was still no sign of his twin, or of the prince, and his heart plummeted.

"What news?" the older son of Elrond asked, feeling a bit winded. "What of Elrohir? What of Prince Legolas?"

"I know not, _hir-nín_ ," one of the dark-haired guards answered. "Though we believed you should see this."

Elladan braced himself as he took a couple steps forward, his brow furrowing at the sight before him.

In the slight traces of moonlight filtering through the canopy above them was a large, dark, semi-circular rock. Leaning against it was a bow and quiver of arrows. Lying in a neat arrangement on the dirt ground in front of it were a set of twin knives, a sheathed sword, and a smaller sheathed dagger.

It only took an instant for Elladan to register what it was he was seeing as he immediately reached out and picked up the sword. The weapons belonged to not only Elrohir, but to Legolas, as well. His hands tightened around his brother's sword with fear. Aside from the display not settling well with him, he knew that neither of them would willingly leave their weapons behind...

Then, his gaze caught something that made his blood run cold.

On the rock that loomed over the neat weaponry array was a spot of deep crimson.

* * *

 _Elrond smiled to himself as the soft light of the evening sun fell over where he and Celebrían sat close together in the grassy clearing in the forests of Imladris, the gentle wind caressing his face and the roar of the nearby waterfall surrounding them. He took a sip of red wine from the goblet he held before placing his cheek on top of his wife's fair head where it was resting against his shoulder, his other arm around her while her hands rested lightly on his knee. His smile broadened when the laughter of their two young children drifted over to them from where they were chasing each other further up the hill that overlooked the waterfall, relieved that he had taken Glorfindel's advice to spend the afternoon with his family while Erestor oversaw any paperwork that had to be done. He had to admit he had been feeling overworked lately, and this lunch with the people who meant the most to him in the relaxation of the forest was exactly what he needed._

 _His gray gaze traveled over to where Elladan and Elrohir had begun to climb on a few rocks near the edge of the cliff, the former a little bolder of the two while the latter was a little hesitant in following. His brow furrowed when he saw the older Elfling's foot slip slightly, the surface of the stone a bit smooth from the spray of the waterfall._

 _"Be cautious," the Elf lord called. "Elladan, Elrohir, why do you not come off there and play further away from the edge?"_

 _Elladan paused on one of the taller rocks as he glanced over at his parents. "All right,_ Ada _," he said, completely standing before jumping to the grass a few feet below. Elrohir looked at the rocks he was standing on with a little uncertainly before he slowly began to climb down while his brother impatiently waited._

 _Celebrían smiled as she looked up at her husband. "I was about to say something myself," she muttered. "They were making me anxious being so close to the cliff."_

 _Elrond nodded in agreement before he leaned over and lightly kissed her forehead. His sons' mischievous antics were well known and would, on occasion, lead them into trouble. It was something not worth looking for._

 _The sudden feeling loomed in the back of his mind an instant before anything happened. Elrond quickly straightened up and looked back toward the rocks, just as Elrohir's foot slipped. His breath caught in his chest while his eyes widened as he watched his younger son, grasping frantically for a handhold but not being able to find one, fall, the side of his head connecting with the edge of the stone._

 _His heart nearly stopped as the wine goblet dropped from his hand. There was a moment where time seemed to slow as the Elfling's small, limp body appeared to sway, leaning dangerously toward the cliff._

 _Elrond was on his feet and running up the hill before he even realized his body was in motion. Celebrían's horrified scream fell only faintly on his ears, and he hardly registered Elladan climbing back up on the rocks in attempt to reach his brother before he was upon them, wrapping one arm around the older twin and pulling him off before winding his other around Elrohir, who had begun to crumple to the grass away from the cliff._

 _The Elf lord lightly set Elladan down on the ground before he dropped to one knee. He noticed Celebrían join them out of the corner of his eye, grateful she knew to give him space despite how pale her face was in fear for their son while she instead pulled Elladan onto her lap as he watched with tears in his eyes. The couple guards in his escort who had been positioned nearby throughout the afternoon stood at the bottom of the hill to see what had happened, but he paid them no mind._

 _Despite how his own hands shook slightly, Elrond cradled Elrohir close to him in one arm while using the fingers of his other to tenderly brush back the younger twin's hair to check the place where his head had connected against the stone. His gaze faltered when he saw a thin trail of crimson was trailing down the side of his paler face from the impact._

 _"Oh,_ ion-nín _..." he whispered, setting his hand lightly over Elrohir's head. He could feel there was a little swelling beginning to form where he had hit the rock, which was something he would look at more carefully when he brought him back home, but as far as he could tell, the damage was thankfully not too severe._

 _"Is... is he all right,_ A-Ada _?" Elladan managed to ask, looking into his brother's paler face._

 _Elrond looked over at his older son before his gaze moved to Celebrían's face, seeing the same worry was reflected in her features. Though beneath that was the faith that he would be able to help their child._

 _Taking a deep breath, the Elf lord brought Elrohir's head to rest against his chest as he closed his eyes, focusing on sending some of his healing touch to his son. A long moment passed before he felt the younger twin's breathing become a bit deeper and more even, and he opened his eyes in time to watch as one of his small hands lightly grasped onto his dark tunic._

 _"He will be fine, Elladan," the master of Imladris assured his older son as he rose to his feet. He noticed the relief on both Elladan and Celebrían's faces as his wife held the other twin close to her as she followed him down the hill toward where their guards were waiting. Elrond cast his gray gaze down to Elrohir, watching his closed eyes narrow a bit in distress while a quiet whimper escaped from him and his hand tightened its hold on his tunic. He lightly returned his hand to rest on top of his head._

 _"_ I am here, _ion-nín," he thought, feeling his younger son relax a little under his restorative touch. "_ I am always here _..."_

Elrond stood at the many-paned window of his room, his fair features impassive as his gaze rested intently on the dark trees that surrounded Imladris. He had known in his heart, even before the Orc ambush at their borders, that something had been amiss. Though now, even though the soldiers had not yet returned, he could pinpoint the dread that had been chipping away at him.

Something had happened to his son.

A weary sigh escaped from the Elf lord as he closed his eyes, his head dropping forward onto his chest. The resurfaced memory brought on by his sudden fear was one he had had multiple times before, normally when Elrohir had been in need of his healing care, because it was the first time he had truly been worried for his younger son's life. It had been the first time he had been truly afraid of losing one of his children.

And now, that fear was nearly consuming him as his heart and mind raced. He could not say what sort of danger Elrohir was in or just what had occurred, but in his own soul, he felt nothing but despair and pain from both of the twins.

Though underneath that, he knew with certainty that his son still lived. And that gave him something to focus on.

The long, glimmering blade of Hadhafang flashed through his mind, and Elrond slowly opened his eyes and cast his gaze to the closed closet door across the room from him. It had been quite some time since he had been faced with the need to wield it, though as soon as he was more aware of what had exactly occurred, he knew it was something he would whole-heartedly pick up again in defense of one he cherished.

A quiet whimper from behind him brought him out of his thoughts, and the Elf lord turned around to see Estel was stirring in his sleep, his eyes fluttering open. " _Ada_..."

For a moment, in the pale moonlight filtering in through the window, Elrond once again saw Elrohir's small frame, his eyes closed and a thin line of crimson trailing down the side of his pale face. But the apparition cleared as soon as it appeared, and he attempted a small smile as he approached the bed and sat beside his foster son. Estel reached his arms out toward him, and the master of Imladris obliged as he lifted him onto his lap, feeling as the small child immediately curled against his chest.

"I am here, _tithen pen_ ," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles into Estel's back to lull him back to sleep. His anxious gaze moved back to the window before moving back to his closed closet door. "I am always here."

* * *

 _Erestor stood on the porch of the house of Elrond, his dark eyes scanning over the returning members of Elladan and Elrohir's patrol that they had brought along with them on their latest Orc hunt. It concerned him every time the twins departed since their actions and hands were guided by their rage and their hatred for the very creatures they slaughtered. And though he understood their motivations since they were all angered by what a pack of Orcs had done to Celebrían and were all deeply impacted by her departure to the Undying Lands despite Elrond giving his very spirt to heal hers, he was still wary about what they were doing._

 _The chief advisor had known the twins for their entire lives, having experienced the pleasure of watching them grow. He could not deny that as Elflings they had often tried his patience, especially when there was work to be done or when he instructed their lessons, though he also could not deny that he had loved them, as he did still, and cherished them as though they were his own. It had been a joy to watch them mature and develop into the skilled warriors they now were, as well as to employ what he had been able to teach them. Though since they had begun these Orc hunts, since they had been harboring these hateful emotions, there had been a definite change in the Elflings he loved. He understood that grief manifested itself in various ways, and though he wished he could end their grieving by taking it upon himself so they would not have to suffer so, he knew he could not, and that they would have to come to terms with how to handle that sorrow and that anger that still lingered in their spirits. This rage, this despair, would eventually pass in time, he knew. It always did._

 _However, it was not Elladan and Elrohir's physical well being Erestor was most concerned with when they went on these Orc hunts. It went without saying that he desired for them to return unscathed, despite how sound he was in his confidence in the twins' abilities in battle. No, what weighed on his heart and mind the heaviest was their mental and emotional state. Whenever they would leave to track down another pack of Orcs, they were never the same when they returned. For on their return to Imladris, the hatred, the wrath, they harbored within was clearly visible on the surface. They appeared to be numb to the world around them, and it took some time for that to once again subside to reveal the Elflings who were close to his heart._

 _It was a feeling and a reality of battle he was all too familiar with._

 _The chief advisor sighed as he briefly lowered his gaze before once again moving it back to the patrol, and his brow furrowed as he watched Elladan approach. The numbness he was accustomed to was absent, instead replaced by fear. The cause was immediately evident, and Erestor's heart nearly stopped as he gazed at Elrohir on the horse in front of his brother, leaning back against him with his head resting on his shoulder. His eyes were closed, and his face was much too pale._

 _"He was struck... by a poisoned arrow..." the older twin murmured as the slender advisor hurried down the stairs, his own breathing quick and shallow._

 _Erestor reached up and set a couple fingers on the side of Elrohir's neck, feeling his skin to be warm to the touch and that his pulse was rapid beneath his fingertips. "We will bring him to your father," he said, keeping his tone as steady as possible despite his own worry for the younger son of Elrond. He turned to a couple other members of the patrol and gestured them forward, waiting for them to approach before he began to carefully lower Elrohir down from the horse._

 _"Alert Lord Elrond," he instructed another guard, who nodded and immediately hurried up the steps and disappeared inside, before gently passing the younger twin's limp form to the ones who were waiting beside him. "Be cautious."_

 _The dark-haired advisor began to follow them up the stairs, but he paused when he realized he was the only one. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing Elladan still remained on his horse, his own face pale in what appeared to be shock. But it was the look in his gray eyes that concerned him the most. They were not empty as they usually were when he and Elrohir returned from an Orc hunt. Instead there was a lost look in them, a vulnerability he had not seen since shortly after Celebrían had departed._

 _Letting out a quiet sigh, Erestor turned completely to face him. "Come, Elladan."_

 _The other dark-haired Elf looked back at him with surprise before he dropped his gaze again and slowly slid down from the saddle. He hardly registered as another member of his guard took the reins from him and led his horse away in the direction of the stables before he made his way up the first couple steps to stand on the one directly beneath the chief advisor. He cast his gaze to the older Elf's stern features, watching as they softened ever so slightly, before hanging his head._

 _"Is it worth it, Erestor?"_

 _The question was a nearly silent one, but the slender advisor heard its meaning clearly. He reached out and set a hand lightly on the back of Elladan's head, gently guiding it to rest on his shoulder as the older son of Elrond leaned into him. Erestor closed his eyes, willing him to feel peace. "All will be well,_ penneth _," he whispered, feeling some of the tension leaving the other Elf's body. "Remember my words. The pain is temporary. Our hearts will heal in time."_

 _A moment passed before Elladan raised his head to meet Erestor's dark eyes, and a small smile formed at the corner of his lips. The chief advisor returned the look before he began to walk up the stairs with the older twin in step beside him._

 _"Let us see how your brother is faring."_

Erestor stood rigidly on the dark porch, his brow furrowed as he watched members of Elladan and Elrohir's patrol ride from the direction of the gates. Something was wrong, that much was apparent with how frantic they appeared. But what made that fact even more apparent was how the feeling of dread that had settled over his heart before the patrol had left to handle the Orc attack had now only grown to fear.

He quickly descended the steps of the house of Elrond while a couple members of the guard approached him, one of which was holding a bundle wrapped with his cloak. "What has happened?" the chief advisor asked. "What of the Orc pack?"

The two raven-haired Elves exchanged wary though unmistakably concerned glances. "The Orc pack has been disposed of, _hir-nín_ ," one of them answered quietly.

Erestor arched an eyebrow. Both guards sighed heavily. "Though Lord Elrohir and Prince Legolas are not to be found," the one who had spoken first added hesitantly.

Despite how his heart skipped a beat, Erestor managed to keep his face impassive. "Not to be found?" he repeated as he attempted to keep his tone as steady as possible. "What is the meaning of this?"

"We know not," the second guard said, his gaze faltering. "There is no trace of them. We believe them to be alive, though their location is unknown. Though we did find these."

Erestor glanced down when the other dark-haired Elf presented him with the bundle he held, and he reached out and lightly pulled on one corner of the cloak with slender fingers. His growing dread was realized, already having seen parts of the weapons protruding from behind the soft material, when he got a better look at the sheathed sword and sheathed dagger that he immediately recognized to belong to Elrohir as well as the bow, quiver of arrows, and set of twin knives that Legolas had brought with him from Mirkwood.

"Where did you find these?"

"Neatly arranged in the forest," the first guard told him. "It almost appeared as though whoever left them desired for us to discover them in this manner, for they were not carelessly discarded."

The stern advisor quickly covered the weapons back up, his fair visage darkening. These actions were not typical of Orcs, and he also knew that neither the younger twin nor the prince would leave their weapons behind willingly. It was almost as though they were being taunted. His mind raced with possibilities, though there was one that stood out prominently above the rest.

"Bring these to Lord Elrond," he instructed. "He must be informed at once."

Both guards nodded as they began to hurry up the stairs behind him, though Erestor reached out and stopped the Elf without the bundle. "Where is Elladan?" he wondered quietly.

The guard cast his gaze in the direction of the gates, and the chief advisor nodded once in understanding as he watched the other Elf disappear into the house after the first. He then made his way past the other members of the twins' patrol who had returned as he walked with a steady yet swift pace to the gates. It was no surprise to him to see Elladan standing on the other side, his gaze resting on something far away in the trees.

Erestor stopped a couple paces behind the older twin, able to tell that he knew he was there by the way his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. " _Penneth_?"

"I have sent some of my patrol to search beyond the borders of the forest," Elladan murmured, his tone nearly as distant as his gaze. "I should be out there... I should be searching for him..."

Sighing, the chief advisor reached out and set a light hand on the older twin's back. "You did what you could, Elladan," he assured him. "It was right to return here so your father could be informed. We will discuss how to proceed from here. We will find both Elrohir and Legolas."

Elladan slowly turned to look over at him, and Erestor's gaze softened when he saw the lost look in the younger Elf's gray eyes. It was a vulnerability, an uncertainty, that he had seen in those same eyes before. "I should not have left him, Erestor... I know not what has even happened to him..."

The dark-haired advisor moved his hand to rest on the back of Elladan's head, gently guiding it down to rest on his shoulder. His gaze moved out to the dark trees that stretched out before him. Though, like the older son of Elrond, he did not know what fate could have possibly befallen Elrohir and Legolas while handling the Orc pack, he did know that someone had harmed one of the Elflings he loved.

 _The intricately designed blade of one of his Noldorin daggers gleamed in the moonlight, the dark handle fitting perfectly in his palm..._

"We will find them, _penneth_ ," Erestor repeated quietly though with an underlying ferocity, feeling the other Elf's breath catch in his chest. "I promise you."

* * *

 _A small smile appeared on Thranduil's face as he continued to listen to his young son tell his wife about the story Glorfindel had told all of the Elflings in the Hall of Fire after dinner when they had journeyed to Imladris in an enthusiastic fashion from the horse behind him. It was amusing to him that Legolas seemed to forget that both he and Helinniel had both been there to hear the tale as well, as well as how they had both been there when he had come to them, seeking comfort. Though the fear of the monster the twice-born warrior had told them about seemed to be far from the little prince's mind now, instead replaced by the admiration he had for the golden-haired Elf lord himself._

 _"That is some tale,_ ion-nín _," Helinniel said, smiling broadly down at her small son where he sat in the saddle in front of her, brushing back some of his fair hair from his face._

 _Thranduil chanced a glance over his shoulder, his own smile broadening as he gazed upon his family. The joy on his wife's face, a look that was reflected in Legolas' youthful features, made her beauty even more radiant while the happiness on their child's face warmed his heart. It was an image he would cherish for the rest of his days._

 _What happened next happened so quickly it was all a blur. The Woodland king had felt that something was wrong, the very trees of the forest of his realm were telling him that. Though the first arrows fired, the first members of his guard who were struck down, still stunned him. His horse shied away from his straight course, Helinniel's doing the same behind him, when another black arrow skimmed his cheek, and his eyes narrowed angrily as he drew his sword when the pack of Orcs that had been lying in wait burst through the trees._

 _"Defend the queen and prince!" Thranduil commanded, leaping from his horse and swiftly decapitating one of the foul creatures that had drawn too near his wife's horse in one fluid motion. He met Helinniel's gaze, seeing that though she appeared fearful, there was also a determination in her eyes to protect their son, who she was holding close to her with one arm. In her other hand was the dagger her brother Erynion had given her to use in her defense. Legolas looked back at his father through tear-filled eyes from behind the shelter of his mother's arm, appearing to want to say something but being unable to do so._

 _"Make for the trees," the king murmured. "I will come for you when it is safe."_

 _Helinniel watched as Thranduil turned and stabbed an approaching Orc straight through the chest before slicing through another's torso, her gaze lingering on the thin rivulet of crimson that trailed down his cheek as he turned back to them. She nodded once, ensuring Legolas was secure against her as she dismounted her horse, her dagger held before her as she made her way toward the thick trunks of the trees near them._

 _Once he was certain his family would be at least somewhat hidden, Thranduil turned his attention back to the large Orc pack that continued to swarm around him. He was a bit unsettled how such a force had made its way this far into the forest, but it was something he could not allow to distract him as he spun to avoid the thick blade of another Orc before sinking his own deep into its back._

 _Though as he took in the situation, he realized only two of his guards remained, the rest having been slaughtered in the ambush. Dread settled over his heart at the thought of his wife and son, though it only caused him to be more determined with every stroke of his blade as he continued to push forward. His meager forces merely had to last until the patrol that was set in the forest could come to their aid, for he knew they were near enough to their location for them to rally to them._

 _The stifling air filled with Orc shrieks as yet another member of his guard was slain as he attempted to stop a few of the creatures from reaching where Helinniel and Legolas were hiding, and a sense of anxiety began to drive the king's movements as he drove his blade through two Orcs at once before spinning and decapitating a third that had leapt onto his back. His heart and his mind began to race when the final member of his guard fell and the Orcs yelled out in triumph as all pairs of eyes seemed to fall upon him. He tightened his hand around the hilt of his sword and set his shoulders as he narrowed his eyes, allowing no intimidation to be shown despite the panic for his family that had begun to settle deep within him._

 _A beat passed before Thranduil stepped forward and sliced through the abdomen of the creature closest to him before stabbing another through the chest, causing the rest of the pack that had not been slaughtered to swarm him. The king spun to avoid their blades as well as to strike with his own, not even allowing a wince when he felt one slash across his arm while another met its target with his leg since any sign of weakness could mean death. More Orcs fell around him as he continued to fight for not only himself but those he loved, tilting his head as he avoided a black arrow fired in his direction. Another skimmed across his back, though he gave the slight burning sensation no notice._

 _Then, time seemed to stand still as the sound that would continue to haunt him echoed around him– the scream of agony from Helinniel. Thranduil slowly turned in time to see his wife standing at the edge of the forest path, her dagger covered in black Orc blood with a couple of the foul creatures lying dead at her feet. But his heart nearly stopped when he saw the black arrow that was imbedded deeply in her chest as she stood protectively in front of where Legolas was cowering behind the trees. She stared down at it in shock for a moment before she tightened her hand around her dagger and slashed the throat of another one of the creatures that was drawing too close. The queen managed to fight off one more before she stumbled back and fell against the tree where their son had taken refuge._

 _Horror filled Thranduil's very spirit as he watched Helinniel struggle to breathe while Legolas' cry filled his ears, seeming to paralyze him. He hardly registered as an Orc grabbed him from behind and roughly forced his head back by his hair, he hardly felt the thick blade pierce his abdomen and slice through his torso, he hardly heard the creatures' shrieks of triumph around him as he dropped to a knee._

 _But rage soon forced out any fear, and he cried out as he stood and decapitated the Orc beside him. He spun and stabbed another in the chest before slicing through another's back before the weakness from the injury he'd sustained spread to his limbs, causing him to stumble a little. Though it did not stop him as he cut down two more of the creatures before a scream from Legolas caused him to stop once again. He looked up in time to see the little prince running away from his mother's side as another Orc approached them, trying to climb up into the branches of another tree to escape as the creature followed._

 _Using the better part of what remained of his waning strength, the Woodland King straightened up a bit more and took careful aim before propelling his sword forward, watching with satisfaction as it sliced down the creature's back and caused it to drop to the forest floor. He winced when another Orc grabbed onto his hair from behind, swiftly drawing the small dagger he also kept on him and stabbing it right in the eye._

 _Then, arrows flew down from the branches of the trees around them, striking the Orcs that stood directly behind him. Thranduil turned in time to see members of his patrol materialize out of the shadows of the trees, and he allowed himself to briefly assess his wounds. Most were nothing to concern himself with, though the deep laceration across his torso was causing him to rapidly lose blood as the burning pain continued to spread._

 _A light hand landed on his back, and the king quickly turned to see a member of the patrol gazing back at him with concern. "Take shelter,_ aran-nín _," he told him._

 _Thranduil nodded once, only allowing himself the reprieve due to his weakened state as well as what other task demanded his attention. He made his way through the bodies of Orcs and Elves alike to the trees as quickly as his protesting body allowed him to. His frantic gaze scanned the gnarled branches above him._

 _"Legolas!" he called. "_ Ion-nín _!"_

 _Not even a moment passed before the little prince's pale, fearful features appeared among the dark leaves before disappearing again as he scurried down the tree and into the safety of his father's waiting arms. His small body shook with sobs as tears fell freely from his eyes._

 _"Are you hurt?" Thranduil asked anxiously, slipping his dagger back into its sheath before turning his full attention to his son._

 _Legolas shook his head as he looked up and met the king's gaze. "N-no,_ Ada _..." he mumbled in between his gasps for breath. "But... but_ Naneth _... They tried to shoot me..."_

 _Dread flooded through Thranduil at this realization, and he scooped his small child up into his arms, attempting to hide his cringe of pain, and held him close to his chest before he made his way over to where Helinniel was lying still against the tree. The roots appeared to have almost formed a sort of barrier on either side of her. He dropped to his knees beside her, and keeping Legolas close to him with one arm, he reached out and set his other hand on her cheek._

 _"Helinniel," he whispered anxiously, praying to the Valar that he had not been too late._

 _An agonized moment passed before his wife's light eyes fluttered open and found his blood-stained face. A small smile appeared in her deathly pale features, though it did not reach her eyes. Her gaze, normally so bright and full of life, was dim. "Thranduil,_ meleth-nín _..."_

 _Thranduil's breath caught in his chest when he heard how weak her voice was, and he failed in his attempt to stop the thin line of tears from appearing in his eyes. "Save your strength," he muttered, glancing down at the arrow. "This will have to be removed."_

 _However, he paused when Helinniel reached out and wrapped her right hand around his. There was no strength in it. The slender gold band she wore around her forefinger was coated in both black and crimson, as was his own. "Watch after... Legolas..." she told him, attempting another smile when the king tightened his hold on her hand to stop her slight trembling._

 _"I will," Thranduil assured her, tracing his thumb over the cold skin of her hand. "I promise you."_

 _Helinniel's slight smile lingered, bringing some traces of her beauty to her ashen features, as she slowly closed her eyes. Thranduil leaned closer to her, able to hear as she breathed, "_ Le melin _..."_

 _The king continued to gaze down at her, keeping his hand tight around hers to keep her with him as he leaned against the tree beside her when what was left of his strength left him, their small son curled against his chest. Legolas' small form continued to shake as he too looked at his mother. "_ Naneth _!" he called through his tears. "_ N-naneth _!"_

 _A small smile appeared on Helinniel's face as she slowly opened her eyes once again. "I am here... Legolas..."_

 _Seeming to be slightly consoled by her voice, Legolas turned his gaze to his father, seeing his light gaze had also dimmed and seemed faraway. A sudden sense of fear consumed him. "Do not leave me,_ Ada _..." he whimpered._

 _The small, quivering voice brought Thranduil out of the darkness that was pulling at him, and he gave his son a small smile. He was hardly aware that the patrol that had come to their aid was now making its way over to them as he set a hand on the prince's head._

 _"I will never leave you,_ ion-nín _."_

The long, intricately designed blade of his sword gleamed in the moonlight as Thranduil studied it intently where it was resting still in his palms. The dark hilt was smooth to the touch despite the years of battle it had faced and fit perfectly in his hold. It was as much a part of him as his own limbs, as effortless to wield as breathing.

As he held it, as the dread that had lingered in his heart since he had discovered that Legolas had joined Elladan and Elrohir's patrol to handle the Orc attack at the borders of Imladris nearly consumed him, he knew it would be needed again.

Though that dread had also caused him to reflect on one of the few days that would haunt him for as long as he lived, the one day he had truly been afraid that he would lose his son. He did not remember much after the patrol had brought him, Helinniel, and Legolas back to the safety of the palace, for the injuries he had sustained in the Orc ambush had taken their toll and caused him to fall into a fevered sleep. All he had known during those long hours while healers tended to him and frantically worked to save the queen from the poisoned arrow that had pierced her was the moment his wife had departed Arda, able to feel it in his own heart and his own spirit. It was a feeling he had only experienced once before, that emptiness left behind, and it had nearly cost him the will to wake. The guilt that Helinniel had given her life to save Legolas' weighed heavily on him, as it did even still, for it was something he should have done in her place.

Though what had caused him to break free of the shadows of his mind that night had been one touch of a small hand on his, one word whispered in his ear.

 _Ada_.

His recovery had not been easy or painless, for his physical wounds seemed to take much longer to heal than they normally would have, and his strength had also been slow in its return. Though it was the emotional wounds that took the longest for him to recover from. Legolas, who had been as grief-stricken as he had been and had to learn to deal with the terrible grief of losing his mother while so young, had seemed to recover more rapidly, and it was his son who, when he had nearly faded and succumbed to his own grief, had kept him stable and tethered to this world.

He had made a promise to Helinniel before her death, and it was one he intended to keep.

Thranduil glanced down at the gold band that encircled his right forefinger. The love he had for Helinniel had been a lifelong one, for he had known her for her entire life and nearly all of his own. They had always been close as they grew up together, and he had never doubted that he desired to marry her when they came of age. She had been one of the few people he felt as though he could have freely spoken his mind to and could confide in without fear of reproach. She had been at his side after his father's death and had supported him as he took on the weight of the crown of Greenwood. She had given him the greatest gift he ever could have received in the form of Legolas, their little Greenleaf, which he cherished above all else.

And like with Oropher's death before hers, there were parts of the path before his feet that seemed uncertain without her. Raising his young son on his own was a bit intimidating for him initially, especially while he continued to recover, though it was a task that eased the burden and the grief that lingered over his heart. There was nothing in the world that meant more to him than the spirited Elfling, and it was the little prince that aided most in his recovery.

Over the years, Legolas' safety was what Thranduil put first, especially when he was trained as a warrior, had earned his plaits, and rose to be a captain in his forces as the Shadow continued to spread through their forests and threatened their homeland. There had been plenty of times where he would have to tend to his son's injuries, to protect him, all in the name of his service to him. But his safety came even before his own, there was no question of that.

And now, as he was faced with the demons of his past, the Mirkwood monarch could understand Legolas' desire to aid him as he had always done, to protect him from those who wished to bring him harm. Though for the prince's own safety, Thranduil had tried to keep him away from those same people who had made threats against his life.

And now, he felt as though he had not done enough. At his very core, he knew his son was in danger. And he had been unable to prevent it.

Thranduil slowly stood from the bed and crossed the room to the wooden desk beneath the many-paned window, sliding his sword back into its sheath. He knew that it was not the Orcs that were threatening his son. In his heart, he was certain that Máfortion was responsible as another way to reach him. He had threatened to do so once before, to use him to bring pain to Oropher. And because he had not acted soon enough, not only were other Elves he cared about at risk, but now his own son had to suffer for something that should not have had to concern him.

The Woodland king winced as he set one ringed hand over his stomach and set his other on the desk as a wave of dizziness coursed through him. He took a few deep breaths before his gaze landed on his crown beside his sword, watching as a couple more golden leaves fell and drifted gently to the wooden surface. His weakened condition would make any decision he made more difficult, he knew, but he also knew it did not matter. He would do what he had to do to not only ensure Legolas' safety, but also to ensure that no one else would suffer at Máfortion's hands when it should have been him.

Thranduil raised his gaze to the window, staring out into the still night air outside. His light eyes narrowed.

 _"I will never leave you,_ ion-nín _..."_

 **Author's Note** : So, there we have it! This wasn't the original way I was planning to end this chapter, but I felt this would give it a bit more impact than my initial idea (and it's sort of a cliffhanger in its own right). I thought with the looming danger ahead, it'd be a good time for some reflection, as well as some thoughts for some of these characters about how they plan to move ahead. It doesn't seem to be sounding too good for anyone at this point, though, does it? We'll have to see how things progress (this story is going to be longer than "Tainted" was, so we've got some time to go yet, lol)! Also thought I'd mention the couple little Easter eggs, of sorts, in here. In Erestor's section, there was some reference to my story "Temporary," which further explores his relationship with the twins (as well as Glorfindel), and in Thranduil's section, there were some references to my story "A Balrog in the Closet," which focuses more on the relationship between Thranduil and little Legolas during that tragic time. Neither one have to be read to enjoy this story, though, lol. But what does have Máfortion have planned for Legolas and Elrohir, as well as Thranduil? We'll see! Thanks for reading! See you guys next time!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Ugh, guys, sorry about the wait! Irresponsible coworkers means having to cover more than just my own shift, and that along with out of town company and an art piece I've been working on has kept me quite a bit busier than normal. But you guys rock! Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! They make my day! And it seems like I've finally been able to shake this cold, so that's made writing come easier again.

In response to **CoffeeRanger** : Aww, thanks! I hope you feel better soon, too! And I also wish you much chocolate and chicken noodle soup! :) Yay, I'm glad that I'm not getting kidnapped (yet, at least, lol)! The Queen of Suspense, huh? Hmm, it has a nice ring to it. I like it! :) Literally? Lol, I'm glad the suspense is working out so well that it has that effect, though! I take that as a compliment :) Thank you! I'm glad that you enjoyed the flashbacks so much. I felt they'd be a good touch at this point with the looming danger. And I'm also glad that Erestor's stood out to you. Oh, good, I was hoping Elladan's line to Erestor there would make an impact. I wanted to expand a little on the relationship between the chief advisor and the twins since that was another dynamic I didn't get too much of into the first one. Yeah, the pain Elladan's in is going to really tear him up in the coming chapters, especially with the twin connection he has with Elrohir. It was a theme I didn't really get to play with as much as I would have liked to in the first one, so it's definitely going to be expanded on here. Yay, I'm glad you liked the dip into Thranduil's thoughts about Legolas. I think the first one (and really the second up until this point) has their relationship mainly viewed through the lens of Legolas, so I thought it'd be a good point to have it through Thranduil's perspective. I'm glad it came across so well and that you enjoyed it! I hear ya. I see so many, too, where Thranduil is very cold toward Legolas and distant from him (and as you said, even abusive), and it just frustrates me every time. Granted, we don't know what their relationship was actually like since they were never actually written together, but I don't believe for a minute that he was any of those things toward Legolas. It's pretty easy to conclude by what we know of both characters that their relationship wasn't a bad one. I agree with you completely, it just isn't who he is to be cold and cruel or tyrannical as a ruler. He was never described as such in the books. I'm so happy that you adore my Thranduil and that he's exactly as you imagine him! Yeah, it was a sad flashback for me to write, as well, so I'm glad that tone came across as such. A few minutes would have made all the difference. Poor little Legolas, I totally agree. Yeah, that is part of the connection that binds all these Elves. Plus, I've just never seen any evidence of there being any bitterness between Thranduil and Elrond (or Galadriel and Celeborn, either) that people seem to think exists because of the Rings. And though I think that Elladan and Elrohir are older than Legolas, I see the friendship between them being very close. Oh, you mean the wound from a dragon? Um, I started formulating this Thranduil before _Desolation of Smaug_ came out, so at the moment, I'm gonna say no he doesn't. You're welcome, thank you so much for reading and reviewing! We do get to see a bit of Legolas and Elrohir to kick off this chapter, so they are there! No, not overly great, gotta admit. Um, well, that's a question that may spoil some things, but I will say there could potentially be little elements of both when it comes to what happens with Thranduil and Legolas. As far as Elrohir is concerned, yes, we will get more into depth about him. Though there are some clues already (one was in the first story, but it got touched on a little bit again in this one). To (potentially) point ya in the right direction without spoiling anything, I will say it'd be helpful to look at the whole group rather than just Máfortion. You as well!

In response to **Maple** : Thank you so much! Yeah, Elrond's in a very tough spot, being (as you so aptly worded) worried to death about Elrohir, but little Estel really can't leave him since he's so traumatized, and Elladan is going to be dealing with a lot, as well. I'm glad that you liked the moment with Erestor and Elladan. I didn't get to show as much of the relationship between the twins and chief advisor that I feel is there in the first story as I'd have liked, so that's something I definitely wanted to expand on in this one. Well, Legolas and Elrohir aren't in the best of situations, which we'll see a little more of coming up here. And Thranduil is determined to do whatever he has to in order to make sure they're safe. I agree with you, he would trade himself for their safety in a heartbeat without question. Yes, he is still suffering from some of the poison's effects, which is primarily the weakness that Elrond warned him of. Worrying and stressing about his son's and friend's safety probably wouldn't help his poorer health, no. Yes, Thranduil is considering everyone's safety at this point since he knows Máfortion is someone that he alone should be concerned with due to his history with Oropher, and he doesn't want anyone else to suffer his madness. I agree, it really is. Thank you for your review!

In response to **Guest** : Yeah, the cliffhangers may not be going away for a little while yet, lol. Oh, good, I'm glad it was worth it! Thank you for the compliment! Thranduil definitely has some ideas of what he'd like to do to ensure the safety of those around him. Lol, well, Lee Pace was a good choice to play the role of Thranduil, that's for sure. Thanks for your review!

In response to **Wendi** : Lol, hi, I'm right here! Sorry, real life has really been getting in the way of writing lately, which has been annoying to me. Thank you, I'm glad to hear it! :)

All right, with all that said, let's see just what sort of situation Legolas and Elrohir are in, as well as the mindset of their families! Enjoy!

* * *

Elvish:

 _penneth_ – young one  
 _mellon-nín_ – my friend  
 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _Ada_ – father  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _ernil_ – prince  
 _avo'osto_ ** _–_** don't fear  
 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _saes_ – please

 _Chapter 8_

 _Legolas stared blankly at the floor from where he was kneeling in the hallway across from the closed door of the healing ward, simply listening to the sound of the heavy rain falling outside as it echoed through the palace of Mirkwood. His hands rested limply in his lap, his dripping hair matted to his skin with water and mud. His bow and quiver of arrows sat forgotten on the ground beside him, along with his twin knives._

 _Quiet footsteps drew nearer, temporarily drowned out by a low rumble of thunder, before stopping near him. The prince didn't look up as whoever had approached slowly dropped to one knee beside him. "How do you fare,_ penneth _?" a deep, quiet voice asked._

 _A moment passed before Legolas slowly looked up into the fair features of Aearion, his father's chief advisor. He had known the other Elf for his entire life, for he had been in Thranduil's service for as long as he could remember, as well as his friend for much longer, and he was someone he trusted implicitly. Despite the heaviness that burdened his heart, he felt a hint of a smile lift the corner of his lips._

 _"I was not the one who was wounded," he answered, though there was no feeling in his tone._

 _Aearion nodded once, glancing over at the closed door of the healing ward. A flicker of lightning briefly brightened up the hall before another rumble of thunder resounded around them. "The fault does not lie with you, Legolas," he told him. "You were defending one of your own."_

 _Legolas sighed. "I acted rashly," he countered, lowering his gaze once more. "And due to my actions..."_

 _"Your father made his own decision," Aearion gently interrupted. "As you did,_ penneth _." A small but fond smile appeared on his face as he reached out and carefully rubbed away some of the dirt that still stained his cheek with his thumb. "You remind me of him when he was in his youth."_

 _The prince glanced up at the advisor curiously. "In what way?" he wondered._

 _Aearion chuckled. "There were times, ones I am certain he would rather forget, where he would often act without much thought if it meant aiding another," he muttered as his smile broadened. "His father, in many ways, felt similarly to how he does in his concern for you. And as your father does, he never hesitated to put the safety of son before his own."_

 _Legolas continued to gaze back at him for a moment before his own smile returned._

 _"Come, I am certain he will wish to see how you fare," Aearion continued as he rose to his feet, holding his hand out to the younger Elf._

 _Legolas' gaze faltered. "He will not be..." he began, though he couldn't bring himself to finish the question._

 _Aearion seemed to understand, however, as he shook his head slightly. "I assure you,_ penneth _, he will be nothing but relieved you were unharmed," he told him._

 _A moment passed before Legolas nodded as he accepted the older Elf's hand and allowed him to pull him to his feet. He glanced back at his weapons though paused when the advisor set a hand on his shoulder._

 _"I will bring these to your chambers," he said with a slight nod toward the door of the healing ward. "Go on now."_

 _Legolas nodded once, taking a deep breath when another loud rumble of thunder echoed around them as he crossed the hall. He reached out and grasped the handle before quietly pushing the door open._

 _In the faint light of the few candles that had been lit, he saw Beriana standing on the far side of the room, speaking in quiet tones with who he immediately saw was his father, his own golden hair dripping from the elements. He hesitated for a moment before he slowly took a few steps closer before he paused when another quiet voice reached his ears._

 _"I apologize, Legolas," Tidurian murmured from where he was lying in one of the beds, soaked through as the monarchs were with mud staining his skin and tunic. His face was pale, and the dark rings under his eyes reflected his exhaustion._

 _Legolas smiled as he walked over to the bed, reaching out and taking his friend and mentor's hand. "'Tis no fault of yours,_ mellon-nín _," he said quietly. "I am simply relieved you were not harmed worse. Has your leg been set?"_

 _He clearly remembered how a simple routine scouting mission to eradicate a large spider's nest had nearly ended in disaster. The sky had been dark and cloudy and the air had been heavy for the past few days, and finally, the heavens had opened up after the prince had brought his guards into the forest that afternoon. The heavy downpour had made the already dangerous terrain even more treacherous, slicking the ground with mud and causing the tree branches to droop. When the thunder had begun to rumble around them, shaking the very foundation of the trees they were perched in, and lightning split the sky not far from the canopy of leaves above their heads, he had contemplated returning to the caverns of the palace until the rage of the storm passed. He only wished he had done so sooner._

 _As they had approached the nest, all stealth they had hoped to have had been lost. The torrential rainfall had caused the dirt ground to become unsteady, and it collapsed beneath Tidurian's feet, causing him to plummet straight into the heart of the nest. The femur in his left leg had snapped in his descent, leaving him at a severe disadvantage. And when he had seen the spiders immediately descend upon his soldier, eager for fresh meat, Legolas had leapt into the nest himself, the rest of those under his command following him._

 _Though they had not had the advantage the element of surprise would have given them that they had hoped for, the prince had still fought and led his guard effectively against the massive creatures that had settled in the forest. When the number of spiders began to dwindle against their forces, he began to lead the injured Tidurian away from the skirmish in effort to bring him back to the palace for medical attention. But the nest had been larger than they had prepared for, and it had not been long before they were both trapped by more spiders that had been lying in wait for a meal._

 _Tidurian gave the younger Elf a faint smile from where he was leaning against the pillows. "Aye, your grandmother has done a fine job of setting the bones in my leg," he replied before his light eyes began to droop. "And she has administered herbs to aid with the pain, as well as to aid me to sleep."_

 _Legolas' own smile broadened, but he could not say anything in return before a deeper voice came from behind him._

 _"That will be beneficial for your recovery,_ penneth _," Thranduil muttered as he approached the bed himself. A small smile appeared in his fair, pale features when he saw the weariness in the soldier's face, and he reached out and lightly set a ringed hand top of Tidurian's head. "Rest now."_

 _Tidurian appeared as though he meant to say something more, but under the king's touch, his heavy eyes finally dropped and his body relaxed against the pillows behind him. Satisfied, Thranduil pulled his hand back before turning to the captain beside him. "Legolas, may I have a word with you,_ ion-nín _?"_

 _Hoping his sense of nervousness wasn't showing through on his face, Legolas nodded once. He then began to follow his father as he walked away from the bed, glancing back to see Beriana approach the sleeping Tidurian to check on his condition before walking out of the healing ward after Thranduil. A flicker of lightning lit up the empty hallway, and the prince's gaze landed on the older Elf's left arm, which had a bandage wrapped around it that was barely visible beneath the sleeve of his tunic. He thought back to when he and Tidurian had been trapped alone with the spiders they had not anticipated, struggling to fight them back in the harsh elements with one of them being injured. He had been stunned when a second patrol had arrived to aid his, this one led by the king._

 _Though guilt immediately grasped at him when he knew the bite from the spider his father had received was due to his own rash actions._

 _"What is it you would like to speak with me about,_ Ada _?"_

 _Thranduil regarded his son for a long moment as a loud rumble of thunder echoed around them. "Was the nest completely eradicated?" he asked._

 _Legolas nodded. "Aye,_ Ada _," he answered. "With the... aid of your patrol, it was taken care of."_

 _"Good. It will not be the last, I fear, though as long as we are vigilant, they will not be out of hand." Thranduil's brow furrowed. "Tidurian has told me what occurred."_

 _The prince sighed as he lowered his gaze. This was what he had been dreading. "The fault is mine, not his," he murmured. "I should have turned back when the storm began. I put my patrol at risk. And due to that, one of my own was nearly killed. I was not thinking when I acted. Had I done so, you would not have had to come. You would not have been injured for my lapse in judgement."_

 _The king glanced back at the door of the healing ward. "'Tis true that one can act rashly in their youth," he said thoughtfully. "'Tis also true that is when one can learn from their lapses in judgement." A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips when he turned back to his son. "My injury is nothing to be concerned about,_ penneth _. And due to your actions, Tidurian now recovers. Do not bear this weight when it is unneeded."_

 _Legolas looked back up at his father. "You are not angered with me?" he wondered._

 _"You were doing what I asked of you, though I would simply advise you to use caution when you lead a scouting mission again," Thranduil told him. "'Tis a relief to me you are unharmed."_

 _All of the tension left Legolas' body as a smile spread across his youthful features. "_ Hannon le _." When confusion entered the king's features, he continued. "For coming to my aid. I am uncertain if Tidurian and I would have been able to reach the palace had it not been for your patrol."_

 _A moment passed before Thranduil reached out and set a hand on the back of his son's head. "I will always come for you,_ ion-nín _."_

Legolas stumbled as he was roughly shoved in the back by one of the fair-haired Elves who had taken him captive, still able to regain his footing on the rugged, uneven terrain as they made their way through the forest. A thick, dark cloth had been wrapped securely around his eyes, robbing him of sight, and his hands had been tied tightly behind him. It unsettled him that he had no way of knowing where they were going, only feeling as though they had been walking for at least a couple hours, but he strained his ears in attempt to gain some sense of his bearings. The second light-haired Elf who had taken them captive walked behind them, forcefully pushing along Elrohir, who was bound and blind as the prince was. Concern grasped his heart when he heard the younger twin attempt to hold back another pained sound when the rough motion jarred his damaged ribs. The brown-haired Elf had, for some reason unbeknown to him, had stayed behind.

Legolas' thoughts then travelled to the black-haired Elf who was leading them through the trees, his one blind eye still so vivid in his memory. Who was he? It was clear to him that this stranger was familiar with him, as well as his family...

But then, his breath caught in his chest. _His father_. He was certain that Thranduil must have known by now that he and Elrohir were in danger, especially if their weapons had been discovered. That thought gave him some hope, for it meant that there was a chance for them to escape this situation. Though at the same time, it caused him to be filled with dread. He knew in his heart the Woodland king would do everything in his power to ensure his safety as he always had, but this time, it was not something he wanted him to do. The prince may not have known who this dark-haired Elf was or why he and Elrohir had been forced into captivity, though something told him that his father was somehow involved.

The ground began to level out beneath his feet, and Legolas' brow furrowed when he was surprised to hear the sound of nervously shuffling horses as they all came to a stop.

But it was the disbelieved voice he heard first that stunned him the most.

"What is the meaning of this?"

 _"Your father deserves the torment, Legolas."_

Legolas felt an undeniable fury when he instantly recognized the voice to belong to Aeglironion, and he felt Elrohir's slightly trembling frame stiffen from beside him. He could feel that his friend desired as much as he did to speak, but they both were aware that the more they listened, the more they could gain.

Though at the same time, it was the former cook's tone that gave him pause. It was not cruel and full of hatred as it had been that night in the kitchens of Imladris. Instead, though it was difficult for him to believe, he detected true concern in his voice.

A laugh the prince recognized to belong to their dark-haired captor came from directly in front of him. "Is this not what you desired, Aeglironion?" he asked, his tone containing a malicious edge. "For Lord Elrond and King Thranduil to suffer?"

"Máfortion, this... this was not my intent..."

"It was not?" Máfortion let out another sharp laugh. "I beg your pardon, Aeglironion, though I do believe you have told me yourself that you desired to see them suffer in the very way you have, to feel that same anguish. And I have seen to that for you since you were not daring enough to do so yourself."

Legolas felt his entire body tense at these words. He instantly remembered what Estel had told him what felt like so long ago now about the traitorous Elf. Aeglironion had not been filled with anger but rather sorrow because there was something he had lost that he was trying to find, and what that was would be the key to discovering the cook's role in the plot against Elrond and Thranduil. The young mortal had also mentioned that there was someone else, not Aeglironion, who desired to bring them all harm in his fury.

It was at that moment he knew who that other person was, as well as just what it was that Aeglironion had lost that the boy had forgotten.

When Aeglironion said nothing in response, Máfortion decided to continue. "Lord Elrond and his wretch mean little to me," he muttered thoughtfully. "Though he does pose a threat to what I must do, and we cannot have that. His worry for his child will provide an ample distraction. However, I do believe that the presence of our... visitors will encourage you to do as you have been instructed, Aeglironion. If you still desire what it is I have promised you."

"I have done what you have asked of me!" Aeglironion exclaimed, and the prince believed he could hear an almost frantic note in his tone. "You gave me your word that you would give me the information I needed."

"And you still have my word, _mellon-nín_ ," Máfortion replied lightly. A beat passed before the sound of skin connecting with skin could be heard, quickly followed by a quiet hiss from the traitorous Elf. "Although, you have not succeeded in what I have commanded, for Thranduil still lives. So you have not yet earned what it is you seek."

Legolas glanced in the direction of Elrohir when he felt his breath coming a bit more raggedly. He could understand how the younger twin was feeling, for his own fear was beginning to settle in. Everything they had once believed about the plot against their fathers was swiftly unraveling.

Aeglironion had been forced to act.

Before the former cook could say anything more, another nervous sound rose up among the couple of steeds that must have been gathered there. "Get them on the horses," Máfortion ordered sharply. "First light is upon us, and we do not wish to be spotted by any Imladris patrol that may be on our trail. I am certain they are searching for our visitors and will soon realize those Orcs had no part in their disappearance."

The prince set his jaw when he was once again shoved forward roughly by one of the fair-haired Elves, hardly managing to come to a stop before he collided with one of the horses in question. He remained silent as he was grasped hard on the shoulders and steered in the direction of the saddle, though he resisted when he heard a quiet whimper escape from Elrohir.

"What is wrong with him, Eruantien?" Máfortion snapped irritably. "We do not have time to spare."

"He is not well," Eruantien told him. "He cannot move with haste."

All was silent aside from the younger twin's harsher breathing, and Legolas felt his heart beginning to race. Then, he heard Máfortion sigh. "We must do what we must," he murmured. There was another moment of silence before Elrohir's pained, though weak, cry filled the air.

"Leave him be!" the prince yelled when he heard the two fair-haired Elves chuckle at his friend's suffering.

A seemingly long moment passed before Legolas tensed when the presence of Máfortion seemed to engulf him when the other Elf drew near. "How noble of you to speak on behalf of your comrade, _ernil_ ," he said, though his tone was dripping with mockery. The younger Elf tensed when he felt the older's fingers tenderly brush through his fair hair. "You are much like your father, and his father before him, in that manner. As they would have you believe, that is."

Legolas' eyes narrowed, his anger returning at how the other Elf spoke against his family. Though he stiffened when he felt Máfortion's breath against his cheek, his voice no more than a whisper in his ear.

" _Avo'osto_."

Then, Legolas felt something hard connect with the back of his head, and he knew no more.

* * *

Thranduil slowly traced his fingers along the bow sitting on one of the tables nearest the fireplace in front of him. He remembered when he'd had the weapon crafted for his son before presenting it to him as a begetting day present. Legolas had been so grateful since his old bow had been wearing out, and it had been something that had proved difficult for him to part with.

That it had been forcibly taken from him and left behind only raised his ire.

The king glanced over his shoulder at where Elrond and Erestor were standing at the table beside his, looking over the weapons that had been found that belonged to Elrohir, before moving to where Elladan was sitting on the floor in front of the lit fireplace, staring blankly into the flickering flames. When he and the Elf lord had been summoned to the Hall of Fire by the chief advisor and the older twin, Thranduil had known immediately that the dread he had been feeling had been confirmed. Legolas, as well as Elrohir, were in danger, and there was one way he knew for certain to ensure their safety. He knew what he himself would have to do.

"Elladan told me they were arranged neatly, as though on display to be found," Erestor murmured stiffly as Elrond slowly slid his younger son's sword back into its sheath. "Mayhap it was meant as a message?"

"'Tis possible..." Elrond agreed quietly as he carefully set the weapon back down on the table. Though his fair features remained impassive and his timbre voice remained steady, his gray eyes betrayed his fear. "Was there anything else significant about the location where the weapons were discovered?"

A long moment passed before an answer was given.

"There was... blood... on the rock where they were arranged," Elladan told him, his nearly whispered tone shaking ever so slightly. His own gray eyes remained on the fire before him, his features wan.

The lord of Imladris glanced over at his older son, his visage darkening with concern, before he turned back to Erestor. "This is not the work of Orcs," he said, shaking his head once thoughtfully. "There was something else in the forest during the night."

The slender Elf's brow furrowed. "Do you believe it could have been Aeglironion?" he wondered, thinking of how the former cook had escaped with the aid of the Elves who had attacked Glorfindel.

Elrond visibly hesitated, though he glanced over at their remaining companion when his deep voice filled the hall.

"Aeglironion is not acting on his own accord," Thranduil stated, turning his light gaze to Erestor. "Rather, he is much as Amonost is. A means to an end for the gain of another."

Erestor met his gaze curiously. "Aeglironion is taking orders from someone?" he pressed.

Thranduil nodded once. "Aye," he confirmed, noticing Elladan also looking over at him with slight interest. "His name is Máfortion. He was once a soldier in my father's defenses in Greenwood, though they had a kinship since we lived in Doriath. He believes my father to have committed some ill against him, and he has sought recompense for what that may be for a long time. And since my father is no longer among us, his hatred for him has become one for me. We believe he may have used Aeglironion to accomplish what he has wished to do since his bitterness against us would enable him to follow through with his plan. And..."

"What is it, _mellon-nín_?" Elrond asked.

The Woodland king met his friend's gaze. "I am certain he has taken Legolas and Elrohir to bring harm to me," he answered quietly. "As I am certain Glorfindel was poisoned for the same reason. The dart used was the same one used when Máfortion attempted to assassinate my father."

Elrond and Erestor exchanged glances. "Where would he bring them?" the latter wondered, his body tensing.

Thranduil sighed. "I know not," he admitted. He then cast his gaze to the doors of the Hall of Fire, taking a few steps in their direction.

"Surely he would not linger in Imladris," the chief advisor continued, beginning to pace a bit. "Elladan has sent some of his patrol to survey the forest and our borders. They would have been spotted."

"Nay," Elrond agreed, his eyes narrowing. "Though I also feel he would not travel far should he desire something from us. We could send another patrol out, should Glorfindel be well enough along with Elladan, to survey the lands near ours..."

Erestor watched his lord and friend carefully, his gaze lingering on his hands. They were restless, the fingers seemingly attempting to grasp something just out of reach. "You desire to search for them yourself." It was not a question.

The Elf lord turned to his chief advisor, and the slender Elf had the confirmation he needed by the intensity seen in those kind gray eyes. But then, the former sighed as he lowered his gaze. "I simply cannot sit by while my son is in harm's way," he replied. "Although..."

"Estel will not allow you to leave," Erestor finished faintly for him. When Elrond's gaze faltered, he set his shoulders. "Allow me to ride in your stead along with Glorfindel and Elladan, _hir-nín_."

Elrond's eyes widened as he turned to the strict advisor, and even Elladan looked back at him with disbelief. The master of Rivendell then sighed as he drew nearer to Erestor, knowing full well the significance of his words. "I cannot ask that of you," he murmured in just above a whisper. "I will not ask that of you, _mellon-nín_. Not after..."

However, his words slowly trailed off when the hint of a somber smile appeared at the corner of Erestor's lips. "As you are aware, ever since they were born, I have always loved your sons as though they were my own," he told him just as quietly. "There has been nothing that has brought me greater joy. If I am able to lend my aid in Elrohir's recovery, I will do so willingly. No matter what I must do."

A moment passed before Elrond reached out and set a light hand on the side of the chief advisor's head, leaning forward as he rested his forehead against his and closed his eyes, the latter doing the same. " _Hannon le_." Erestor simply set his hand on the Elf lord's shoulder in return.

Elladan watched the two dark-haired Elves intently for a moment before he glanced behind them when sudden movement caught his eye, watching as Thranduil silently slipped out into the hallway with Legolas' bow, quiver of arrows, and twin knives in his grasp. He was not the only one to notice his departure, however, as Elrond pulled away from Erestor and looked back at the door. He spared one more quick glance at the chief advisor, who nodded once before he began to make his way toward the older twin, and he let out a quiet sigh as he began to cross the room.

When he stepped out into the hallway, Elrond found Thranduil standing in front of one of the tall windows, his light gaze resting intently on something far away as he watched the pale morning sun continue its upward trek. He came to a stop beside the Mirkwood monarch, though neither spoke a word for a long moment.

Finally, the silence was broken.

"You know as well as I what it is Máfortion desires," Thranduil said. His tone, though weary, was resigned.

Elrond glanced at his friend. "I cannot allow you to pursue him alone, Thranduil," he replied quietly though sternly. "I will not allow you to give yourself to him. We will still find Legolas and Elrohir another way."

Thranduil continued to gaze out at the lightening valley. "You do not know him as I do, Elrond," he muttered. "Since his hatred for my father is now mine to bear, he will wear me down until there is nothing left of me. Glorfindel, Elrohir, and Legolas should not have had to suffer for me. I cannot allow it to happen to anyone else."

The Elf lord reached out and set a hand on Thranduil's arm as though the simple action would keep the other Elf in place. "The fault is not yours, _mellon-nín_ ," he told him. "You know this." He paused with a sigh. "We will send out another patrol. I assure you, we will find them."

The king nodded once, though there was no feeling in the action. In his heart, he knew that Máfortion would not be discovered unless he wanted to be, so it would not matter how many were searching for his son. Máfortion wanted him, and it would only be him who would be able to draw him out.

Elrond's gray eyes faltered. " _Saes_ ," he whispered. "If Máfortion has you, what aid would that be to your son?"

 _He would live, as would yours_. The realization echoed in Thranduil's mind, though he did not speak it aloud. Instead, he wearily closed his eyes before he turned to his friend. "I am going to bring these to my room," he stated, glancing down at Legolas' weapons.

The lord of Imladris continued to gaze steadily at the Mirkwood monarch, though the fair-haired Elf's features remained impassive. Thranduil met his gaze, and for a moment, he believed his innermost thoughts to be on display for the other Elf to read.

However, Elrond slowly released his hold on his arm. "All right," he conceded. "Though return here as soon as you feel well enough so we can determine which course of action would be best to take."

"I will," Thranduil assured him. He then turned and began to make his way down the hallway in the direction of his room. Elrond watched after him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he also tuned to rejoin his chief advisor and oldest son.

Thranduil took a deep breath when he was alone, briefly closing his eyes before he turned the corner that would bring him to his room. His temples were softly pounding, threatening to lead to the lightheaded feeling returning, though it was something he ignored. As much as he valued the friendship that existed between him and the master of Rivendell and despite how much respect he had for him, he was still aware that Elrond just did not fully grasp how far Máfortion's hatred for him ran. He had to admit that he also did not since his father had never told him the extent of what happened between them to cause that bitterness to begin with, though he had dealings with his father's former soldier. He was well aware of just what lengths he was willing to go to in order to gain his recompense, which he knew would be nothing short of his head.

 _"I will never leave you,_ ion-nín _..."_

It was a promise he had always kept, and it was one that he would continue to uphold.

When the king reached his closed door, he paused when he immediately felt that something was a bit off from when he had left. There was a presence already in his room.

Keeping a tight hold on one of his son's twin knives, Thranduil slowly reached out, his slender fingers wrapping around the handle as he slowly pushed open the door.

 **Author's Note** : And, we've got another cliffhanger! So, things are beginning to fall into place in regards of why the events of the first one happened, and just what roles those such as Máfortion and Aeglironion had filled. And they will continue to do so! Legolas and Elrohir aren't in the greatest of positions, Erestor is starting to take a few steps down a road he had not wished to travel (what happened in his past will be revealed soon!), and Thranduil has made up his mind. Where are Legolas and Elrohir being taken? Will Thranduil follow through with his decision? Will Elrond be able to partake in the search for Elrohir? We'll see as we continue! Thanks for reading! See you guys next time!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! So, it appears i've had a bit of a relapse with this cold/sinus thing that I had before, as it's now come back, and I've been trying to catch up on sleep (which hasn't been the easiest thing in the world). But it's on the downward swing again, so that's a good thing. On top of that, I've still been spending all the time I can with out of town family in between extra work shifts I've been taking because of an irresponsible coworker. But, things have settled down a bit, so I think things will be okay for a while. Thank you guys so, so much for all of your reviews, favorites, follows, and patience– it means a lot to me and is very encouraging!

In reply to **Ella 728** : Hi, Ella! No worries, I appreciate your review! You're welcome, I'm so happy you enjoyed this chapter so much! Aww, well thank you for saying so, I'm glad that you look forward to and love my updates that much, lol. Yes, we have a little more information on Aeglironion here, and his story will continue to unfold; I'm glad it piques your interest, since there is more to him than meets the eye. I'm glad you're looking forward to this chapter, and I hope it doesn't disappoint! Poor Thranduil indeed, that is definitely going to continue to be a theme as we move forward. Yeah, the poison's affects are still lingering with him, that's for sure. Well, we will definitely find out who is in his room in this chapter! Lol, cliffhangers tend to be my specialty ;) Haha. I hope it wasn't too long of a wait!

In reply to **Maple** : I'm glad this chapter had the desired emotional effect! It's, I think, a pretty sad thing for Thranduil to even offer; sacrifice is definitely a powerful theme. I'm glad it touched your heart, as well as how much you love how he's portrayed. Thank you for your review!

In reply to **Wendi** : Thanks for your review! We're going to find out in this chapter!

In reply to **CoffeeRanger** : Yes! I figured it was time to give a couple clues ;) Lol, I'm glad it made you that happy that I did so! No problem, I can't promise how the rest of the cliffhangers are gonna go, so I didn't want to do an awful one here. Oh, wow! I'm thrilled that the exchange between Erestor and Elrond came across as strongly as I hoped it would. I can say that we should be getting into what happened to Erestor in the next chapter (I'm almost positive, at least. If not the next, then the one after), but I'm glad that how much of a sacrifice it is for him to offer to go still comes across. Because it definitely is one (sacrifice is probably one of the biggest themes in the whole story). Yeah, whenever I write with Erestor and/or the twins, I always feel like they do have a strong bond, and I don't see Erestor having children of his own, so I definitely see him considering the twins to be like children to him. Yes, the forehead touch! I'm very glad that came across as such a powerful gesture, and yes, that was more or less what I was trying to go for with its meaning. I'm glad it came across so well! I'm glad that was one of the main things that you took from Legolas' memory– he's not perfect, as none of these characters are, and that was one thing I really wanted to, I guess, serve as a reminder. Most of the characters in this story have made a mistake of some kind. Yeah, gotta love those father and son moments! I'm glad the tie-in at the end with what Thranduil was thinking came across well, too. As far as Thranduil not leaving yet, there are a couple reasons for it. His condition is a bit of a hinderance (which, of course knowing Thranduil as we do, will not matter to him whatsoever), though he also doesn't know where Máfortion is, and he doesn't want to waste time. With the right amount of information, he would be out of there in a heartbeat (should Elrond allow him to). I'm glad you're really starting to not like Máfortion– he's not the most likable of Elves. Yeah, there's more to Aeglironion than meets the eye, as well as just what sort of role he plays in this whole thing, that's for sure. Things aren't exactly as they seem when it comes to him. It's interesting to see your feelings changing on him! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! Thank you, I really am (except that my allergies have been kicking my butt as of late, lol). I hope you're feeling better, too! You as well! :)

So, with all that said, let's continue! We'll have a new face in this chapter, so that'll add another fun element into things. Hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

Elvish:

 _Ada_ – father  
 _tithen pen_ – little one  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _aran-nín_ – my king

 _Chapter 9_

Estel awoke with a scream.

He sat up on the bed, trembling as tears rolled down his cheeks, and looked around his foster father's room. " _A-ada_..." he mumbled through his quick breathing. Though in the morning sunlight filtering in through the window, he saw that he was alone.

The images he had seen in the nightmare that had plagued his dreams lingered with him, and the small mortal whimpered as he fought his way out of the blankets before leaping to the floor. He nearly lost his balance in his haste, though he quickly regained his footing before he ran across the room and out the door.

" _Ada_!" Estel called, a frantic tone to his voice as his tears were renewed. He turned a corner before running as quickly as he could down another hall. " _Ada_!"

However, the Elf lord was nowhere in sight.

The five-year-old slowed to a stop, the sobs escaping from him making it a little harder for him to catch his breath. Something was wrong, he could feel it. The thought was one that terrified him, and all he wanted was the warm and secure embrace of his foster father.

Sniffling, Estel sat against the wall under one of the tall windows, listening to the sounds of the birds outside as he wiped tears off his cheeks with a small fist. He pulled his knees close to his chest and buried his face in the light shirt he wore for sleeping, tightly closing his eyes as his small body shook.

" _Ada_..."

But then, he slowly raised his head when a quiet yet soothing sound reached his ears. The young child looked up and down the hallway curiously, searching for the source, though he did not see what could be making the music he was hearing. His tears slowing, Estel pushed himself to his feet and began to make his way down the hallway in the direction he believed he heard the sound coming from. He sniffed again and rubbed his eyes as he began to walk down a smaller corridor with an open door at the end of it, the light, melodic rhythm growing louder.

Estel paused in the doorway and glanced eagerly into the room. It was a bedroom he had not been in before, and though it was somewhat small, it still had an open feel to it, and the sunlight spilling inside brightened it considerably. Next to the bed was a bookshelf filled with thick tomes as well as a stack of loose parchment, quills, and a few ink vials, all neatly organized. On a shelf on the adjacent wall was a long, cylindrical instrument with holes in it that he recognized as a flute as well as a long-necked stringed instrument with a rounded body he thought was called a lute. Sitting on the floor in front of this shelf was an instrument that was much taller than he was with a curved frame and many long strings that he knew was a harp, his favorite instrument he had discovered while being in Imladris.

And sitting in a cushioned chair in front of the tall, many-paned window, his eyes closed and his fair face radiating serenity in the light, was a dark-haired Elf he knew well from the nights he spent listening to his playing and singing in the Hall of Fire, as well as when he saw him around Imladris when he had an odd job to tend to. In his lap was a much smaller version of the harp across the room from him, his slender fingers quickly plucking the strings with a mastery only gained from years of playing.

Though when he sensed the young mortal's presence, the minstrel stopped the song he was playing and turned to the doorway curiously. "Estel? What are you doing here? I did not expect to see you."

The five-year-old lowered his gaze sheepishly. "I'm sowwy, Lindir," he mumbled. "I heawd your music..."

"There is nothing to apologize for, Estel," Lindir assured him with a cheerful smile as he rose to his feet and carefully set the small harp down on the chair. Though he could not deny he was curious about why he had this early visitor since he was usually with Elrond, who he was aware had been summoned some time ago, after what had occurred with one of their former cooks. But then, concern crossed his youthful features when he saw the child's eyes were red-rimmed and damp from tears. "What is wrong, _tithen pen_?"

Estel looked back up when the minstrel approached, holding his arms out toward him. "I had a scawy dweam."

Lindir carefully picked up the child, looking down on him when he wrapped his small arms tightly around his neck. "Night changes all thoughts," he told him, softly smoothing down his dark hair in a gesture of comfort. "It was only a dream, Estel. It cannot harm you. You are safe here."

The five-year-old snuggled into his shoulder. He sniffed quietly as his breathing began to slow, feeling much calmer in the jovial Elf's presence.

A small smile appeared on the minstrel's face as he lightly rubbed the boy's back. "If you wish to tell me what your dream was about, I will listen," he continued. "Mayhap you will feel better." When he felt his small form tense in his arms, he chuckled. "Do not fret, you do not have to."

Estel's body relaxed once more, and he took a deep breath as he glanced over at the small harp sitting on the chair. "What wewe you pwaying?" he asked.

"Something that does not yet have a name," Lindir answered. "'Tis a piece I am still creating. Did it appeal to you?"

The young mortal nodded as he rubbed his eyes. "Can you pway mowe?" he wondered.

Lindir's smile broadened. This was not the first child he had soothed with his music and songs. "If that is what you would desire, _penneth_." When Estel nodded in confirmation, he nodded once before he returned to the cushioned chair in front of the window and picked up the small harp before sitting. Balancing the child on one knee, he plucked the strings a few times with his slender fingers before once again beginning the melodic rhythm he had been playing before.

Estel leaned back against his side, one small hand lightly grasping his deep blue tunic, as he listened to the minstrel. His gray eyes began to droop, the gentle tune making him feel even more relaxed than he had after waking in a panic from his nightmare.

But it was the thought of his dream that made a slight feeling of panic return.

" _Ada_ was... was huwt by a twowl..."

Lindir's eyes narrowed slightly, though his playing did not falter. "Does the tale of the trolls told in the Hall of Fire still frighten you, Estel?" he asked, remembering how the little boy had sought comfort from Elrond a few nights before on the day when Thranduil and Legolas had arrived in Imladris when they had been unwinding in the gathering space after dinner. It would be a reasonable source of his clearly troubling dream.

He was confused when Estel shook his head. "No... not scawed of that anymowe," he answered quietly, a thin line of tears forming in his eyes as he tightened his hold on his friend's tunic. " _Ada_... _Ada_ was fighting, and... and a twowl huwt him bad... His eyes wewen't opening..."

The minstrel sighed when he glanced down and saw a couple tears trail down the small mortal's cheeks. "It was just a dream, _tithen pen_ ," he murmured, changing the tune he was playing to a slower, lighter melody. "Nothing more." He felt Estel start to relax once more as he wiped his tears away with the back of his little hand, but before he could say anything more, he cast his dark gaze over to the open door when he felt another presence lingering there.

"So this is where you have come to, Estel. You had me concerned."

Estel turned on Lindir's lap, not releasing his hold on his tunic, and a broad smile spread across his face when he saw his foster father standing in the doorway. "I'm awl right, _Ada_ ," he said, glancing excitedly back at the younger Elf. "Lindir is pwaying me music!"

Elrond gave him a small smile in return as he took a few steps further into the room. "I see," he replied, turning his own gaze to Lindir. The minstrel met it, able to see the slightly perturbed look in the Elf lord's gray eyes. He was not aware why Elrond had been summoned, other than something more had happened after Aeglironion had escaped and that Orcs had attacked their borders in the night, though he could easily tell that whatever had occurred was weighing heavily on his mind. And he suspected that he had also heard the young child's dream.

"Do you enjoy Lindir's music, _ion-nín_?" the master of Imladris continued, setting a hand on top of the boy's unruly dark hair.

"Aye, _Ada_ ," Estel told him with an enthusiastic nod. "Vewy much."

"You as well as I."

Though the comment was made lightly, Lindir could hear a definite weight in it. He glanced back at Elrond, seeing he was gazing at them with a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Is there something I may do to be of service, _hir-nín_?" he wondered.

Elrond looked from Estel to Lindir and back, his brow furrowing. "There may be something I wish to attempt," he murmured, mainly to himself. He cleared his throat and turned to his foster son. "Are you certain you are all right here with Lindir, Estel? Or would you rather partake in the morning meal with me?"

The child appeared torn for a moment, one of his small hands reaching out and grasping the Elf lord's hand. The dilemma was clear on his face before his smile once again returned. "I want to hear mowe of Lindir's music," he said quietly, though he maintained his tight hold on Elrond's hand. "Do you want to hear Lindir's music?"

"I would, _tithen pen_ , though there are some matters I must attend to this morn," Elrond replied. "Though if you would wish to stay with Lindir for a little more time, you may."

Estel appeared thoughtful for a long moment. Lindir glanced back at the lord of Imladris, able to see that something was troubling him deeply, though he did not ask since he was certain he would be informed when he was needed to be. "If I may say, _hir-nín_ , mayhap I may take Estel for the morning meal," he suggested, hoping that he could ease his friend's burden even just a little.

Elrond briefly met the minstrel's gaze before turning back to the small boy. "Does that appease you, Estel?" he asked.

The five-year-old worried his bottom lip between his teeth before he nodded, looking back up at Lindir. "After we eat, can we come back and pway mowe music?" he wondered.

Lindir smiled. "If that is what you would desire, _tithen pen_ ," he told him.

Elrond attempted a small smile of his own. " _Hannon le_ ," he murmured to the minstrel, watching as the other Elf gave him a quick nod, before clearing his throat. "There are people I must speak with, though when I am able, I will return to see how Estel fares."

"He may stay as long as he desires," Lindir assured him, his smile lingering.

"I appreciate that." Elrond then glanced down at his foster son when he felt his small hand slip from around his, and his fair visage faltered slightly before he slowly left the room.

* * *

Erestor stood outside the open door of the healing ward, his back rigid and his lips pressed into a thin, stern line as his dark eyes lingered on the room's golden-haired occupant. Glorfindel was sitting straight up on the bed, his still slightly paler face unreadable as he listened intently to the account he was being given by a member of Elladan's patrol. Though he knew his friend well. He could see in how firmly his jaw was set and how his light eyes were narrowed ever so slightly that the information he was receiving about the disappearance of Elrohir and Legolas was troubling him greatly, and he was prepared to do what he could in order to aid in their recovery. Even if he was not at full strength, he could see in the twice-born warrior's tense form and angry eyes that he would be fully capable to lead another patrol to search for them along with Elladan.

And, the chief advisor knew, he would soon be doing the same at Glorfindel's side.

Erestor's slender fingers lightly curled into a fist, and he let out a long breath as he closed his eyes. It had been so long since he had used the twin knives he kept hidden away behind the tools of his daily work, out of sight and out of thought. Though he had certainly not forgotten how to use them, even though he was much more comfortable with a quill in his hand rather than the blades. Despite how he desired for them not to be so, they were both still a part of him; a buried part deep within him, yet one that was still lingering just beneath the surface. His fingers remembered where the best place to hold the handle was to give him the most command over the beautiful but deadly weapons, his arms could repeat the motions for the most effective strikes, his feet had memorized the steps needed to efficiently move him to where he needed to be positioned...

 _Pained screams echoed around him, mingling with calls for help..._

 _... he knelt on the ground beside the still form of another Elf, his eyes wide with fear..._

 _... he glanced down at his crimson-stained hands, his blood-stained blade resting on the ground beside him..._

The chief advisor's eyes snapped open when he felt his breath catch in his chest, unable to take a full one. He reached out and set his hand on the wall in effort to keep himself steady, able to feel the color draining from his face.

 _"I vowed I would not use these again..."_

It was a promise he had made to himself long ago, though he also knew it was one he was willingly about to break for those he loved.

Erestor moved his dark gaze back inside the room in time to see Glorfindel turn his head to look over at him as he continued to listen to the guard. Normally he would have attempted to move out of sight since he would not want to be caught watching, but he found he could not will himself to move. He still was unable to catch his breath, and his slender form was trembling slightly. The twice-born warrior's brow furrowed in concern, and the stern advisor closed his eyes once more as he forced himself to breathe. It took a long moment, but under his closest friend's gaze, a sense of calm slowly began to pervade his mind, stilling his body and allowing his breath to come easier.

He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze instantly meeting Glorfindel's intense one. Though no words were spoken, an understanding passed between the two of them. The struggle he had faced, and was now continuing to face, was evident by both of them, as well as what choice was now before him and what he now must do.

Erestor glanced down at his hands, finding that they had both curled lightly to fit perfectly around the hilts of his twin daggers. Scouting potential whereabouts of Elrohir, Legolas, and those who took them before their abductors could get too far would not be as difficult as what would likely come after, he knew. Though he was as prepared as he could be to follow through with what may come.

The chief advisor glanced back at the Balrog Slayer once more, seeing the hesitance in his fair features. It was a step neither one of them desired for him to take, though the slender Elf knew he had already made his decision. The safety of the younger son of Elrond and the prince meant too much to him to allow any sign of cowardice. But he could not deny that it was the golden-haired warrior who now gave him the strength he needed to uphold that decision for the lord of Imladris as well as the realm he now called home, and he was grateful that he would be at his side.

A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips, and Erestor briefly bowed his head to Glorfindel before he turned and began to make his way down the hallway toward his room.

* * *

When Thranduil stepped into his room, his ringed hand keeping a tight hold on one of Legolas' twin blades, it was not difficult to spot the presence he had felt from the other side of the door. A slender, brown-haired Elf he immediately recognized to be the one who had been in the guise of one of Imladris' guards to lead him to Aeglironion was sitting in the cushioned chair beneath the window, one of his former guards he had banished on terms of plotting an assassination attempt on him in Greenwood after the Last Alliance waiting for him.

"Anessen," he murmured. That how he knew just which room was his made him realize how long he had been observed during his stay.

The other Elf's brown eyes gleamed as he looked back at the king. "There is no need to be so heavily armed, _aran-nín_ ," he said, though there was no sincerity in his tone. "I am simply here to speak with you." Though his hand did not linger far from the sheathed sword at his hip.

Thranduil's light eyes hardened. "There is no matter which I would discuss with you," he replied, setting the bow, quiver of arrows, and one of the twin knives down on the bed beside his own sheathed sword.

Anessen smirked. "Not even the matter of your son?" he wondered.

The Mirkwood monarch felt his entire body tense, though it was something he did not outwardly show as he calmly straightened and turned his gaze to his former guard. "The Orc party was meant to serve as a mere distraction to us, am I correct?"

"He knew you would not be fooled by that small force," Anessen told him. "He knew you would not believe they were capable of bringing harm to your son."

Thranduil set his jaw firmly, his fingers tightening their hold around the hilt of the knife he still held. "He? Máfortion?" The name was still somewhat heavy on his tongue and difficult to speak. "His business is with me, and no other. Leave those here be."

Anessen slowly stood from the chair, turning his attention to the crown that sat on the desk beside him. He ran his fingers lightly over it, causing another golden leaf to break off and drift to the wooden surface. "He has waited for a long time to see you, Thranduil," he muttered, carefully picking up the leaf that had fallen to look at it closer as he seemingly ignored his last statement. "When Aeglironion could not complete what he was directed to do... though I must admit, he resisted greatly... Máfortion was in need of another mean to accomplish what he, and what we, have so desired." He paused, glancing over his shoulder back at the other Elf. "Your son fought against us, as did Elrond's wretch, though there are ways to to bend one to your will."

Though his mind was still attempting to process what he had heard about both Máfortion and Aeglironion, Thranduil's eyes narrowed dangerously as he took a step toward the other Elf with the knife held tightly in his hand. "What have you done to him?" he hissed.

But his former guard only chuckled as he raised a hand, allowing the leaf to fall from his other. "Peace, Thranduil, no serious harm has come to your precious prince," he said, though the king was unsure if he believed those words. "Not yet. He and Elrond's son are being brought to where we have been hiding, waiting for you."

Thranduil set his shoulders. "Are you simply here to taunt me about what you have done?" he asked. "While we search with no lead while you are free to do what you will? While you may even ensnare us?"

Anessen's smirk returned. "You think so little of me, _aran-nín_ ," he answered, taking a few steps closer. "No, I am actually here to give you the location they will be brought to."

The Woodland king's brow furrowed in suspicion. There was something about his words that did not settle well with him. "Why would you willingly give me the location of where they will be held?" he wondered. Though as soon as the question was spoken, he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"The location is meant for you alone," Anessen told him, his eyes gleaming. "Máfortion has no real interest in your son and especially no real interest in Elrond's child. Therefore, he has no interest in what fate now befalls them. Though you, however, do have that interest. And this will give you the option you desire to ensure their safety."

Thranduil steadily met his gaze. "You are implying I may give myself for their lives," he murmured.

"If that is the way you desire to see it," Anessen replied, his smirk broadening. "Máfortion simply desires to speak with you. It has been many a year since he has seen you or your father. Though, aye, he has taken your and Elrond's sons to not only gain your attention, but to encourage you to seek him."

The Mirkwood monarch stiffened. "Where is their location?"

His former guard moved forward so he was standing directly in front of the king, and he leaned forward to speak quietly into his ear. Thranduil's breath caught in his chest, though he kept his features impassive as he watched the other Elf back away from him. "How am I to know if there is deceit in what you are telling me?" he asked quietly.

"I have no need to deceive you, Thranduil," Anessen answered. "You said yourself, Máfortion's business is with you and no other." He chuckled when he saw the king attempting to keep heated words restrained. "You have until last light to consider what I have told you and to make your decision. I will be waiting for you nearby. If you do not arrive by last light, what fate befalls your son, as well as your friend's son, is yours to bear."

Thranduil opened his mouth to respond, though he was stopped by the other Elf raising a hand. "I believe your friend the Elf lord is near, and I do not believe you would wish to be seen in my presence," the latter muttered. "Though consider him in your decision as well, _aran-nín_. Could you bear to look at him should a horrible fate befall his son when it was in your power to prevent it?" He smirked when he saw the king's steady gaze falter. "Consider my words carefully, Thranduil. I would believe I will see you before last light, though that will remain to be seen. For now, farewell."

And before any more words could be spoken, Anessen slipped from the room as the door closed silently behind him, leaving Thranduil alone with his thoughts.

A long moment passed as the king lowered himself onto the bed and closed his eyes with a weary sigh. His mind was racing, attempting to wrap around all that he had been told. His suspicions had been confirmed about Máfortion being behind all that had happened since he and Legolas had arrived in Imladris for a routine agreements discussion. Aeglironion had somehow been forced to attempt to poison both him and Elrond, and their sons had been taken in effort for Máfortion to gain what he truly desired– himself. Máfortion was now doing what he had done against Oropher long before, threatening his son in order to gain what he desired. Though he now knew where both Legolas and Elrohir were being brought to, he could feel the truth in Anessen's words in that matter, and though they had gained much distance on him since the night, he could still follow them. He could still agree to the demands these banished Greenwood Elves were making so he could ensure the safety of not only his son, but also his friend's son, both of whom should not have had to suffer at Máfortion's hands. No one, not Glorfindel, not Erestor, not Elladan, not Elrond, not anyone in Imladris or in Mirkwood, should have to suffer at Máfortion's hands. Not for him.

Thranduil slowly opened his eyes when he felt the familiar presence of the Elf lord drawing nearer, just as his former guard had said. He straightened as he turned to gaze upon the crown that had adorned his head for so long sitting on the desk and seeming to gleam in the sunlight filtering in through the window.

There was no need for him to consider or dwell on Anessen's words.

His decision had already been made.

 **Author's Note** : So, there we have it! Thranduil's decision is probably plainly obvious, so what will be the fallout of that? Any guesses on where Legolas and Elrohir are being brought (I will say there *may* have been a clue in this chapter somewhere...)? Will Elrond and those around him be able to figure out that information and aid Thranduil in any way? We'll have to see as we continue! Just a little note about this chapter, as well. Lindir is a character that I wanted to include in the first story, but with how "Tainted" was structured, I really couldn't figure out a good place for him that wasn't random or wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb. So, I'm really glad that I could fit him into this story, because everyone's favorite minstrel needs some love, too, lol. Speaking of, does anyone else remember the whole Figwit craze? Hilarious, lol. Also, for those of you who are wondering about Erestor's background and what happened in his past to make him so reluctant to pick up those blades of his again, I can say that will all be revealed in the next chapter! So, we've also got that to look forward to! Things are starting to stir up, and things are soon going to go down since we're close to that tipping point, that's for sure. We'll see how it continues! Thanks, guys! See ya next time!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Wow! Thank you so much for your reviews and well-wishes, as well as your patience. I am happy to report that I am feeling much better! But I've also had a couple very trying weeks, and my inspiration just hasn't been there at all (I hope this longer chapter partially makes up for my absence). But fortunately, the amazing Lindsey Stirling got me back on track, and her violin cover of Evanescence's "My Immortal" was the inspiration, as well as the driving force, behind this chapter. I couldn't think of a better song to fit the mood that this is supposed to bring across in each section. So for added effect, give it a listen before/while you read! I am also happy that you guys liked the inclusion of Lindir in the last chapter! We will be seeing more of him in upcoming chapters!

In response to **CoffeeRanger** : Aww, thank you! Yeah, it's a bummer that this relapse happened, but the cold has run its course now. *crosses fingers* Leaving me with my typical seasonal allergies during the worst time of year for them, lol. Right? So annoying. Thank you! And I'm also glad that you liked the chapter! I love Lindir, so I'm happy that you liked my interpretation of him so far (this is actually my first time writing with him, but I really wanted him to be in these stories), and that his role with little Estel works well and is as cute as I envisioned it to be! I'm the same way, which is why I thought this would be the perfect avenue to introduce Lindir. Yay! I'm glad it was perfect! You can expect a couple more adorable moments with those two :) Estel's nightmare is a significant thing in its own right, so I'm glad you brought it up! His gift of foresight (as small as it is and though he may not understand what it is) is something I've utilized in these stories a couple times so far, so it's something to keep in mind. Though it is also a throwback to the first one with his fear of trolls, so it could also be just a nightmare. Ooh, interesting take on his grandfather and him just projecting that onto Elrond since he's the prominent male guardian in his life. It's probably not so likely that that is consciously what he's doing, but I will say that the nightmare itself has significance. Can I just say how excited I am that the Kinslayings and fall of Gondolin is where your mind went for your Erestor epiphany (and that you were excited about those being possibilities)? As for Erestor's age, no one knows how old he is, lol. But for these stories, he was born early in the First Age, so that'll give ya a pretty good idea. Obviously, I don't want to spoil it since we'll be getting there in just a little bit, but I will say that you are certainly in the right time frame ;) I hope it's still exciting for you! And I'm glad you're really picking up on how close Glorfindel and Erestor are in these stories, and how there's that understanding on such a deep level between them. That will also continue as we go, especially with what's coming up for the chief advisor. It's arguably the deepest relationship in these stories (other than, of course, the father-son ones or the one that exists between the twins). Really? I'm glad you're enjoying this added layer to their friendship since it's just always how I've seen them, but it kinda surprises me it's not really found in other places. Yup, Thranduil. What more can we say about him, huh? Lol. Yup, we all knew it was coming, but I'm hoping it's gonna end up hitting right in the feels just because of how protective he is and what he's willing to do for those around him. As for if Máfortion will actually let Elrohir and Legolas go or if he's just playing Thranduil, that remains to be seen... ;) Because you're right. The worst way to hurt Thranduil would be to hurt his son, and he wants to break the king. Yeah, Elrond's gonna have his work cut out for him, that's for sure ;) Luckily, he's got his own set of... usually pretty reliable skills that may just come in handy for what's to come. Thank you, it's going well so far! A little slower than last week work-wise, which is nice (that's the tricky thing with unreliable coworkers; you never know if they'll be there or not). It's given me more time to rest and try to get over this cold, lol. So I hope things continue to stay settled down, too. You, too!

In response to **Ella728** : They really are, and this is always the worst time of year for me. Thank you! And thank you for the compliment on the chapter, Ella! It really was, and that was what I was hoping to get across with that last section– just how brazen and how dangerous Máfortion and his crew are. They want one thing, and they'll do whatever they have to in order to get it. They're not afraid, which makes them have less to lose and adds to that dangerous element. So I'm glad that was successful in getting that across. Ah, yes, Thranduil. As for going after them, that is, at the very least, his plan! So we'll see what comes from that coming up here!

In response to **Maple** for both reviews: Thank you for both! As for Máfortion and co. keeping their word about letting Legolas and Elrohir go... we'll have to see ;) They're not the most agreeable of people, and they only have one thing they want and don't care what happens otherwise. But yes, things are definitely heating up, and I'm glad it's getting exciting! I apologize for the wait, there was a lot to cover in this one, lol. Máfortion is pretty crazy, yeah, and he's had a long time to ruminate on all of his anger and hatred for Thranduil and his family, so that hasn't helped. Yeah, it certainly won't be good...

In response to **Wendi** : Thank you so much, as well as for your review! Yeah, that's supposedly the bargain Máfortion is willing to make, Thranduil for Legolas and Elrohir. If he holds to it is the question. Well, as for your thought, it's not outside the realm of possibility... They want to break Thranduil, and nothing else really matters to them, so torturing him in front of his son and Elrohir may be something they consider doing. So, we'll have to see what happens with their plans!

And an **important** **note** since credit has to be given where credit is due. This chapter is dedicated to a good friend of mine and fellow Tolkien nerd, **Gwedhiel**. Back when I was writing "Tainted," we discovered that we shared a love for Elrond's chief advisor. As anyone who's looked into any information on Erestor is aware, there really isn't much on him as far as his background is concerned. All we really know is the position he holds in Imladris as well as a few things he does in the Third Age. There's nothing at all that Tolkien gave us about his past– his background, where he came from, or how he came to be the chief advisor to Elrond. And it's those speculations that make Erestor both a very fun and a potentially challenging character to write in terms of fitting this canon character into the canon of Middle-earth. These curiosities and the mystery that surround Erestor were too much for me to pass up and caused me to tie it in as a sister thread to the main overarching theme of sacrifice in these stories. And since this story has been in the works again, I've asked Gwed if she, by chance, had any insight on Erestor that perhaps I just wasn't finding or hadn't thought of as I was preparing to start crafting this background since she was as excited as I was that these would delve into this mysterious past. Little did I know she was at the ready with a quite evidently researched and thought out headcanon of Erestor's life, fitting him into the First, Second, and early Third Ages up through where we find him in Imladris as Elrond's chief advisor when the events of _The Lord of the Rings_ come about. And it felt like a really good fit to me, and a lot of it resonated with the way I've been portraying and setting up Erestor with the reluctance and the anxiety to wield those blades in these stories so far. And I'm very excited and grateful that she allowed me to use her wonderful headcanon for this story. So, Gwed, this chapter is for you because you're awesome and I love ya! Thank you for trusting me to play with your Erestor headcanon. I really hope I've done your fantastic imagination justice, because that door that Erestor has been trying to keep closed is about to burst wide open.

Hope all of you guys enjoy! And again, I sincerely apologize for the wait.

* * *

Elvish:

 _tithen pen_ – little one  
 _Ada_ – father  
 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _muindor_ – brother  
 _mellon-nín_ – my friend  
 _aran-nín_ – my king  
 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _saes_ – please

 _Chapter 10_

 _Elrohir sniffed as he watched Elladan run around with a few of their friends from where he was sitting on the porch of the house of Elrond, a single tear slowly trailing down his cheek. The laughter of the other Elflings echoed in his ears as he cast his gray eyes down to his heavily wrapped wrist and forearm. It had only been a few short days since he had broken a couple of the bones in that tender part of his arm while chasing after his brother through the halls of the house, and though his father had tended it well by setting them back in place, he had still been deemed not well enough to partake in the usual games with his friends. He could not blame Elladan for wanting to play with them, especially since the weather was so beautiful that day, though he still wished that he did not have to be left behind._

 _Then, the younger twin looked up when he felt a familiar presence beside him, and he quickly wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his tunic when he saw Elrond gazing back down at him with concern. Erestor stood behind him, giving the young Elfling a sympathetic look._

 _"What is wrong,_ tithen pen _?" the Elf lord asked, dropping to one knee beside his son._

 _Elrohir sniffed again and shook his head, furiously blinking the tears out of his gray eyes. "'Tis nothing,_ Ada _," he answered quietly as he lowered his gaze._

 _Elrond exchanged a knowing look with his chief advisor before he arched an eyebrow as he turned his gaze back to his son. He reached out and set a light hand on his back. "Why do you not join me this morn?" he suggested. "I am certain Erestor will allow me to rest for some time before we are supposed to break for lunch." Erestor's left eye briefly twitched, though a small but kind smile turned up the corner of his lips._

 _The younger twin rubbed his eyes with a small fist before giving his father a tentative smile. The lord of Imladris returned the look before he turned his attention to the Elfling's right hand. "May I see your wrist,_ ion-nín _?"_

 _Elrohir nodded as he raised his wrapped arm, wincing slightly when Elrond's gentle fingers came in contact with the sore area. The Elf lord's brow furrowed a bit as he looked the thin wrist over closely, ensuring that it was still healing as it should have been before the smile returned to his face as he carefully lowered his arm back down._

 _"It will not be long before you will be able to partake in your games, Elrohir," Elrond assured him. "Though why do you not come with me now? Mayhap Aeglironion will make some of your favorite pastries for us, and we may spend some time with your favorite book of stories."_

 _A moment passed before Elrohir's smile returned, broader than before. "_ Hannon le _,_ Ada _," he muttered._

 _Elrond nodded once as he rose to his feet and held his hand out to the Elfling. Elrohir set his smaller one in his father's palm, allowing himself to be gently lifted to his feet. "Always,_ ion-nín _."_

 _It was not long before Elladan wandered up to the library himself, claiming their play was not the same without his brother and wanting to spend time with their father, as well._

Elrohir's breath came shakily as he attempted to stay on the horse he was situated on, knowing it was only possible because of one of the Elves who had taken them sitting behind him. His left side was throbbing in time with his racing heart, the pain radiating from his abdomen with each beat. With the thick, dark cloth wrapped around his eyes, it was impossible for him to see where they were going, and his breath and pulse were echoing too loudly in his ears to enable him to strain them enough in attempt to gauge his surroundings.

What he could tell, however, was they had been traveling through the forest for at least a few hours since first light. Though he could not see it, he could feel as the sun made its way higher in the sky against his skin as the four horses swiftly continued to maneuver past the trees.

Where were they headed? It was clear to him that their captors had a destination already in mind with how focused they appeared to be. Though with mounting dread, the younger twin felt that it would be beyond the borders of Imladris. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he and Legolas were at a clear disadvantage when it came to defending themselves against those who desired to bring them harm.

Elrohir clenched his jaw when his slender frame was jostled as the horse the Elf he was riding with jumped over something in its path, the motion causing his side to flare with pain. His body stiffened, causing his captor to chuckle from close to his ear, though he refused to cry out. He would not give any of them that satisfaction. He would not show that weakness.

As they continued to make their way through the forest after Máfortion, the younger twin turned his head to the left, attempting to gain some idea of how Legolas was faring on the steed beside his. The prince had been silent since they had reached the horses, and he had no way of knowing what had happened to him or how serious an injury he had sustained at the hands of their captors may have been. Fear coursed through him when there was still no sign of life from the younger Elf that he could discern.

Though as Elrohir turned his head forward once more, he could almost feel his heart waver when his blind gaze landed on Aeglironion somewhere ahead of him. He had been as angry as Legolas had when they first encountered him a few hours before, but after hearing his words, and the desperation and, arguably, anguish that had noticeably been in them, he was starting to have his own doubts once again.

His mind traveled back to when he and Elladan were sitting in the kitchens of their father's house the night before their former cook was supposed to face judgement where he had voiced the doubts he'd had even then. What if Aeglironion, someone he had wanted to believe the best in, had truly been innocent when he had been banished from Greenwood? What if his bitterness had driven him to Máfortion, however he was connected to wanting to end, it seemed, the life of Thranduil, where he in turn had been forced to act in return for something he appeared to be searching for?

What if the Woodland king, what if his _father_ , had both truly been wrong?

What was Aeglironion searching for so diligently that he had seemingly been forced to act against both Thranduil and Elrond?

Who was Máfortion?

Elrohir was brought out of his thoughts when another rough motion by the horse beneath him caused his throbbing ribs to flare with pain, and this time, he could not prevent a whispered whimper from slipping past his lips. A tremor passed through his slender frame, and he closed his eyes behind the cloth as a weak, shaky breath escaped from him. He shifted his arms with a little difficulty since his hands were bound together so that they were positioned a bit more securely over his left side, knowing it was only a feeble protection.

But then, his breath caught in his chest when a familiar presence brushed against his mind. _Elladan_. The younger twin grasped onto the essence he knew as well as his own, finding that it gave him some added strength to keep him steady. It also reminded him that he truly was not alone in what he and Legolas would now be facing.

As the comforting influence of his brother continued to calm and rejuvenate him, a gentle light began to ebb its way into his consciousness, filling him with warmth. It was another presence he was very familiar with, one that had always been there for him when it was needed and one that he also did not want to lose sight of.

 _"_ Ada... _"_

The sound of running water reached his ears then, and Elrohir slowly opened his eyes, though he knew it would make no difference. His brow furrowed, wondering if they had reached the Ford. If that was indeed where they were, it would not be long before they would be beyond the borders of Imladris.

Elrohir felt his hands clench tightly.

 _"_ Ada _..._ muindor _... please..."_

* * *

Erestor stood rigidly before his closed closet door, simply staring intently at the polished wooden surface while the silence of the room hung heavily over him. He was uncertain how long he had stood in this spot, unable to move, as he considered everything that was now crumbling around him the closer he came to opening that door. He had worked for so long to keep this part of his past locked away, to uphold his vow to himself to never again use the twin Noldorin daggers that were still such a part of him, but he realized he had only been deceiving himself.

It was something he could never fully seal away, for it was always with him, right under the surface.

Taking a deep breath as he set his shoulders, the chief advisor slowly reached a slightly shaking hand out toward the door handle. His fingertips merely brushed against the metallic surface before he quickly withdrew his hand with a quiet gasp, almost as though he had been burned, as his eyes widened when distant screams echoed in his ears. His breath caught in his chest as images of his blood-stained blades flashed through his mind, and he tightly closed his eyes in attempt to block them out.

He was unsure how long it took to regain himself, but when Erestor finally opened his eyes, he found himself met with the same sight of the closed door before him. His breath still coming shakily, he clenched his jaw before reaching out a second time and grasping the door handle. If he did not open this door now, he never would. Hesitating for only a moment, he tightened his grasp before pulling it open.

Darkness greeted him, and as the slender Elf's eyes adjusted, he immediately surveyed the stacks of blank parchment, the extra ink vials, and the extra quills that were waiting for him, all instruments of his daily tasks that he desired to take with him to his sanctuary in the library. Though those comforts were not meant for him now. He was here with a different purpose.

Once his breathing had calmed, Erestor hesitantly stepped one foot into the closet before walking inside completely, allowing the thick air to surround him. His dark eyes moved to the second shelf from the bottom, and he uncertainly reached forward before slowly pushing the piles of blank parchment aside. He set his jaw firmly as he reached up and grasped the hilt of of one of the daggers, still finding it fit perfectly in his hold, before he lifted it off the shelf. His dark gaze passed absently over the worn, thin sheath that protected the blade before he reached up a second time and grabbed the weapon's twin, also finding that it fit perfectly in his hand. Holding them close against him, the chief advisor slowly left the closet, shutting the door again behind him before he approached his bed and set both daggers down on the mattress, one at a time beside the other.

For what felt like a life age, Erestor simply stared down at the two deadly weapons that were before him in the late morning sun. He almost desired to simply close his eyes, for maybe they would not be there when he would open them again, though he did not. He knew it was simply foolish sentiment. He had made an offer to Elrond, one of the two people who had guided him through the difficult time he'd had when first settling in Imladris as he'd struggled to reconcile the ghosts of his pasts, and the guilt that came along with them, with the new position he had been appointed to.

The promise he had made to himself all those years before meant nothing when it came to keeping his word and lending his aid to the Elf lord now.

It was with this thought in mind that Erestor slowly reached forward, almost numb, and grasped the hilt of one of the twin daggers and pulled on the sheath to reveal the shining, intricately designed blade beneath it. It was beautiful to be sure, as well as lightweight, though it was also a silent killer. It had tasted its share of blood. He twirled it once in his slender fingers, then twice. Simple. Effortless. It was almost as though he had not replaced the weapons with quills for all of those years by the way his body remembered the motions of how to handle the dagger.

Perhaps this part of him had not been buried nearly as deeply as he had hoped, after all.

The chief advisor then tilted the weapon so that he could see his reflection in the blade. It was pale, weary. It was what he expected to see.

It had not always been this way, he knew. There had been a time, so long ago, where warfare had simply not been a part of his life, where he had merely observed it from a distance behind the safety of the walls of fortified cities. He had regretted the devastation and lives lost when such battles occurred, though these tragedies had not impacted him directly. Though it had not been his position to be a warrior, he had known that well, for his strength did not lie in battle. Rather, his skill had always been in diplomacy, his analytical mind crucial in matters of gathering information, prioritizing it by how essential it was, and exploiting it efficiently. It was why, when he had been a citizen of Nargothrond, he had been utilized as an ambassador for Finrod in the Falas, for they had once enjoyed strong ties of trade and coalition with those under the great shipwright Círdan's rule. Erestor, having been trusted to negotiate these economic matters due to his knowledge of the bureaucracy of Nargothrond that enabled him to speak on Finrod's behalf, had taken up residence in Brithombar there when he was not returning to his homeland for brief periods.

Though it was upon Finrod's departure with Beren and his subsequent death, causing the king's nephew Orodreth to take up the throne, that had caused the connections the two kingdoms had once enjoyed to begin to turn tenuous. Erestor himself had begun to feel uncomfortable in the role he held, and also dismayed by by the news of Finrod's passing, though it had been when Círdan's foresight revealed the falling of Nargothrond upon Túrin's arrival there when the carefully balanced life he had built for himself began to truly collapse from underneath him.

Erestor's gaze faltered in his reflection in the blade. His thin fingers trembled slightly as he recalled all of the emotions that had shaken the sturdy foundation of the routine he'd held for so long.

Nargothrond, his homeland, had been doomed to fall as long as its king kept its defenses down upon the word of this outsider, of that he had known for certain. Círdan had seen it, and only a fool would dismiss what the shipwright had to say. It was a sentiment that had been shared by most of the citizens of the Falas, and the outright disregard of their leader's words had caused the already strained relationship between the two kingdoms to dissolve. Erestor, on more than one occasion, had spoken in defense of the realm he still held loyalty to, which had done no good, though he had known he probably should not have. He had never felt more out of place in Círdan's land than during that time, his duty as an emissary had quickly become unproductive as the ties between the two lands continued to unravel, though he had also known that he could not return home.

The chief advisor lowered his blade. _"I was such a coward then, and a traitor... I could not do what was expected of me... simply because I was afraid to die..._

 _"... As I still am..."_

Erestor let out a deep breath and closed his eyes at this realization. He tightened his hold a bit around the hilt of the dagger. His need for self-preservation had twice prevented him from leaving the Falas to return to Nargothrond, even when Orodreth had summoned him to, which had torn him apart in every sense. He had frantically attempted to rationalize his decision, had convinced himself he would ultimately return once the tensions between the two kingdoms had settled and once Orodreth had raised the defenses against the impending attack. The king would have to, he had reasoned, for the good of his people. Besides, his direct allegiance had always been to Finrod, though dead, though even he had known it was a weak justification since his fealty should have been to the Crown above all else, which had then belonged to Orodreth.

Though no matter what, Erestor remembered with shame, he had not been able to bring himself to leave the safety of the Falas. The dark lord Morgoth had discovered Nargothrond when it had been hidden to him for so long. The defenses had not been properly raised. And, as Círdan had foreseen, his homeland had fallen.

The thought that he rightfully should have been in Nargothrond when it fell into ruins had continued to both shake and plague Erestor for years, even though he had kept attempting to convince himself that it was irrational. There were still nights where he had nightmares, which was why he needed sleep without dreams, about his return to his homeland in time to see the city in flames and ruins before his own life was lost.

 _... a dark figure hovered over him..._

 _... a vial of ink spilled onto the blank pages sitting on the desk in front of him before they drifted to the ground..._

 _... the blade of his dagger glinted before him, and he slowly reached a slightly shaking hand out toward it..._

A shudder ran through Erestor's slender frame as he slowly sat on the edge of his bed, cradling the dagger close to him. He had lived with the guilt of that decision for so long that it had become a part of him. There were times were it was not so potent, though it still lingered, just beneath the surface of his consciousness. Though his decision of choosing his own life over that of his loyalty to the kingdom he had long belonged to was one he would have to live with. He had known of the fate that was going to befall Nargothrond, and yet he had done nothing since he had valued his own life too much. As one with fealty to the Crown, he should have set aside that desire and willingly walked to his own death. And since he had not, since that cowardly fear of dying had caused him to pause, he had been overwhelmed by shame not only for his own selfish actions since his loyalty would have killed him, but also for heeding another leader's words over Orodreth's. He _should_ have been there when Nargothrond had fallen. Perhaps he could have done something to prevent it. Perhaps he could have persuaded Orodreth to raise the defenses himself if he had returned, or perhaps he could have aided some of the people to flee so not as many lives would have been lost. He was ashamed for simply not being there as his homeland died. Though ultimately, he had reached a point where he was glad, almost relieved, that he had not returned when summoned, which only brought about even more shame.

Erestor slowly opened his eyes, his dark gaze tracing over the intricately designed blade. That had been one of the darkest times of his life– his homeland had been eradicated, and he had had no use in the Falas, where he had remained simply because he'd had nowhere else to go. He had ended up settling with the Noldorin refugees there, and with no position in the realm, he had simply had to focus on his own survival and to attempt to figure out what to do from there.

Though his decision had been made for him when what felt like not too long after, his temporary residence in the Falas had been ransacked by enemy forces. With his familiar sense of fear renewed, Erestor had managed to escape with the limited number of Sea-Elves who had fled by ship to the Isle of Balar, where Círdan had been centralizing the refugee camp as more lands had begun to fall at Morgoth's hand. Elves from these lands had continued to arrive seeking shelter, but as the Great Battle only continued to expand, it had soon become clear that all would be needed to gather a force to combat the enemy.

The chief advisor lightly traced a fingertip over the slightly curved blade. He clearly recalled the first time he had wielded a weapon, remembering how even then it had brought him great distress to do so. He had adjusted to it, had even grown numb to it, though the distaste for it never left him. Though once he had been enlisted in the armies of Círdan and Gil-galad, warfare had no longer been something he simply observed from afar– it had become his shocking reality. There had been absolutely nothing that he had known before that was the same. Nothing that had been there before existed anymore.

 _Screams echoed around him..._

 _... blood stained the gently swaying flowers in the grass beneath his feet..._

 _... his stained blade glinted in the pale sun..._

It was only then that he had intimately learned the horrors that war always brought. He had been well aware of the Kinslayings brought on by the sons of Fëanor and had wept at the devastation and loss of life that resulted. Though he had not detested his own personal place in warfare because he could not wield a blade; once he had brief instruction on how to properly handle one, he had been able to hold his own well enough, even though he did not feel he was competent enough since his prior role in Findrod's administration had had nothing to do with warfare, so he had not been able to rely on his experiences there. It had been the actual action of killing another living being, and so closely, that had caused him to be sick to be a warrior. The sights and sounds of death, on both their side and the enemy's, would be ones that would never truly leave him. His place, he knew, had not been on the battlefield with Gil-galad, though it had been his only option since although Círdan had been gathering people for his sea guerilla warfare, he'd had no experience with sailing.

Fortunately, word had passed through the ranks that Gil-galad had been searching for scouts, and Erestor still remembered just how quickly he had taken advantage of that opportunity. It had still been a dangerous part to play in the war and had come with many risks, and though he still hadn't liked what he had to do, it had been much less traumatic for him than being on the ground fighting. It might have been a somewhat cowardly decision on his part, though he had also been well aware of the importance of that position, as well as how he had been more effective in it. His ability to quickly analyze and prioritize information had been crucial and well-utilized, so Erestor had served as a scout through the War of Wrath and the War of the Jewels instead of fighting on the battlefield. He had still experienced many of the horrors of war, devastation that he could still see when he closed his eyes, though it had still, in his mind, had been preferable to being on the front lines.

 _Pained screams echoed around him, mingling with calls for help..._

 _... he knelt on the ground beside the still form of another Elf, his eyes wide with fear..._

 _... he glanced down at his crimson-stained hands, his blood-stained blade resting on the ground beside him..._

The chief advisor glanced at where the dagger's twin rested on the bed beside him, slowly reaching out a slightly shaking hand to grasp its hilt and pull on it slightly to reveal the equally intricate blade inside. It had been after those campaigns that Erestor had found another position as well as a place to settle in Lindon. Gil-galad, having noticed first-hand the slender Elf's analytical mind while in his service as a scout, had offered him a spot as a counselor to him at the head of the economical office. Erestor had thrived in his new position, simply relieved to be outside of a combat position, and being able to focus solely on paperwork, facts, and figures had given him the opportunity, for the most part, to be able to forget about the horrors he had witnessed. He had gotten along well with and had the utmost respect for Gil-galad, and it was then he had also been acquainted with the High King's herald.

A small but fond smile crossed Erestor's face, and for a moment, the tremble that lingered in his fingers stilled. Elrond had seemed so young during that time, yet wise beyond his years. He had been aware of the fate he and his twin brother, Elros, had faced when Maedhros and Maglor had taken them from their homeland of Beleriand, though the herald he had met had not seemed at all impacted by the turbulence of the events or his nominal captivity. He had possessed a kindness and gentleness in his demeanor, though underneath that, a definite source of strength and power. Erestor had taken an immediate liking to Elrond, though they had not had many opportunities to work together.

Over time, his calculating mind, bureaucratic experience and intelligence, and his ability to be forthright with his speech from when he had been an emissary had earned Erestor an opportunity to rise to a position on Gil-galad's privy council, though he had foregone the opportunity to once again be an ambassador. He had simply felt that there could be some lingering unease from those he had dealt with before, and much like when he had been a scout, he had preferred to put his prior experience as an emissary behind him with how it had turned out for him the first time. He had also found that he enjoyed his new position much more, for he had been relied on for his own opinion on important issues and his way of interpreting them rather than speaking on behalf of another, and it had been much less stressful for him.

As Lindon had continued to grow around him, Erestor had been a bit more at peace than he had in quite some time. He had felt as though his new position had been utilizing much more of his potential, he'd had a purpose and had felt as though he had belonged, and he had earned the respect and friendship of not only Gil-galad, but Elrond as well. In time, he had counted the herald as one of his closest friends, and it had been only him that he had confided in about nightmares he had continued to have about the fall of Nargothrond and being on the battlefield, for both still had weighed heavily on his often focused mind. Elrond had always listened with a patience that had seemed to be beyond his years and had never made him feel ashamed for feeling the way he had, even when he had admitted the shame he had still felt for his cowardice so long before.

At least, it had only been Elrond until a certain Elf lord from Gondolin had reappeared.

The chief advisor nearly chuckled aloud as his smile broadened, almost forgetting about the twin daggers that were resting in his hands for a moment. At first, he had hardly been able to stand being in the same room as Glorfindel, for his cheerful disposition while working had irked him like nothing else could. He had later learned from Elrond that the Balrog Slayer had done this deliberately since it was too simple to irritate him. Though, over the passage of time, Erestor had adjusted to at least tolerate Glorfindel's antics despite their clear differences in demeanor, and ultimately, he'd had to admit that the twice-born warrior did manage to lift his spirits.

Though it was only when Glorfindel had discovered him awake in the library in the middle of a starless night, furiously attempting to finish some paperwork for Gil-galad in the dim light of a nearly burned out candle after his sleep had once again been interrupted by nightmares of his past and the resurgence of his fear of dying that Erestor had fully realized the friendship that had been forming between them. He clearly remembered how Glorfindel had, with a calm kindness he had not seen from him before, confided in him about the nightmares he often had about his death, which had in turn caused Erestor to reveal why he had been in the library so late to begin with. It had been that moment of vulnerability and mutual understanding that had passed between them that had caused him to consider the golden-haired warrior his most trusted friend. Glorfindel had still been able to annoy him like no one else could, particularly when he had been trying to work, though there had also been that irrefutable bond that connected them that he felt could not be severed.

Erestor sighed as he fully pulled the second dagger completely out of its sheath, holding one weapon in each hand as his dark eyes traveled over the blades. If only his life could have remained that peaceful and productive. Though, he reasoned, if it had, he would not be in the place he loved so much now.

When the dark lord Sauron had begun his conquest of Eriador, a campaign to combat him had been launched. Erestor had been uncertain at the time if he would again be needed in a militant role, and though he had still despised warfare and feared its consequences, he had been prepared to do whatever was asked of him. However, he had been a bureaucrat with no standing position on the battlefield as those such as Glorfindel had. So instead, he had found himself scrambling with all the finances and resources that had had to be calibrated for the war effort.

Though despite his attempts at remaining collected despite how chaotic the situation was, it had proven to be one of the most trying times of Erestor's life as the constant strenuous work had taken its toll both mentally and emotionally and had nearly caused him to lose his mind on more than one occasion. However, he had forced himself to remain poised and focused on his job by focusing on himself and thinking through the problems as logically as he could, giving him the illusion of control even though it had been something he had not possessed since there was no such thing in times of war. Having been closely connected to battle before, a time he had wished not to remember, Erestor had assumed that would have prepared him for this assignment, though working behind the scenes had not been the same as being on the field. It had been a swift learning process and readjustment period, but he had been able to successfully take what he knew and apply it to the new situation he had found himself in, which had led to him conceiving some of the better solutions for the problems they had had to maintain. His hard work and efforts had been recognized by those in standing above him, and even Elrond had taken notice of his administrative potential, though Erestor had not realized it since he had been so worn out and had clearly remembered just why he despised wartime.

When their closely-knit realm of Eregion had been sacked by Sauron's forces, Erestor had been aware that Gil-galad had been faced with the dilemma of who to send with Elrond's regiment to lend their aid, especially in terms of war counselors. The High King had not had many to spare since they had already been spread across Eriador, and he had not wanted to lose them unless he'd had no other choice. His situation had only been more difficult because he had already decided to send Glorfindel with Elrond to be his primary war counselor, and since he had been involved in the war himself, he had been conflicted on who he would, and could, deprive himself of since he had already been losing his herald and the Balrog Slayer.

Erestor clearly remembered his surprise when Gil-galad had enlisted him to leave with Elrond's regiment since he had been so involved in the war management behind the scenes. His orders had been simple– he had once again been expected to take on the role of a scout since his abilities to read and accurately report a battlefield would be crucial to safely reaching enemy lines, though he had also been told to be on hand for the herald. Erestor had had the suspicion that a simple scout had not been his only position in this campaign, for once he had departed with the regiment, he had been one of the primary people that Elrond had confided in and discussed ideas with. Their camaraderie had proven to be beneficial in these discussions, for Erestor had not been afraid to disagree with the herald if he had felt it necessary, and they had been able to speak with such an ease that it had not been difficult to come up with solutions. And the strong friendship that had long been cemented between them had eased the burden of their hearts, and Erestor strongly suspected that had been the reason Gil-galad had chosen him to depart with the regiment.

Personally, reprising his role as a scout had caused him a significant amount of distress and conflict, and it was that reason why he had been glad he'd had both Elrond and Glorfindel with him. Along with their companionship, he had managed to keep most of the anxiety he had experienced at a minimum by reminding himself that he had not been on the battlefield itself, which would have been much worse as Gil-galad could have easily placed him there instead.

 _Pained screams echoed around him..._

 _... a pair of wide, fearful dark eyes looked back at him, pleaded with him..._

 _... a dark figure moved toward him..._

 _... his own scream echoed in his ears as he reached for his blade, stained with blood..._

The chief advisor's thin frame began to tremble once more. As a scout, he'd had to encroach the besieged city of Eregion more than once, along with the other scouts in the regiment, to survey the situation for Elrond, visualize a layout of the battlefield, and figure out the best way to launch an attack. He remembered the fear and dread that had been in his heart each time he'd had to return to ensure their plans were viable or to retrieve more information, even though he had attempted to remain as focused on his mission as possible. He had done this before, though, as he had quickly learned, each war was different from the next.

Erestor had seen much devastation and loss of life as a scout during the War of Wrath and its subsequent battles, though the situation in Eregion had had a completely different feel to it. The new horrors he had seen were also ones that he knew he could never forget no matter how much he tried, and it had been one scouting mission that had nearly gone wrong that would continue to linger with him.

He and a few other scouts had stumbled upon a couple wounded refugees that had managed to survive the sacking of the city in an unoccupied area of the ruins and had been trapped there. Though as they had attempted to get them to safety, their presence had been discovered by a small pack of Orcs. To prevent any further discovery, Erestor had immediately begun to cut them down along with one of the other scouts, though he had been injured in the process as one of the creature's swords had caught him across his back. Fortunately, the laceration had not been too severe, and he and the rest of the scouts had managed to eradicate the Orc party and free the refugees before their presence was alerted.

Once back at the camp, Elrond and Glorfindel had tended to his injury. Though they had insisted that he rest, Erestor had not listened and instead had joined the other scouts in their last few missions to survey the area and finalize their battle plans before the assault was launched. Though as the campaign to reclaim Eregion had come to a close and as they had made their flight to the Hidden Valley, he had vowed to himself he would forever put aside the scout and never use his blades again. He had experienced too many of the horrors of war much more intimately than he had ever desired to, and he had known that it was not where he was meant to be. The death and the destruction he had witnessed had completely changed him, and he had realized it was a fear he would never be able to completely quell. That part of his life, he had decided, would be over, no matter what the consequences would be upon that choice.

Erestor had remained with Elrond and Glorfindel while they had been confined in the valley, a companionship all three of them had welcomed and cherished. Together, along with those who had remained from the herald's regiment as well as from Eregion, which had included Lord Celeborn, the sanctuary of Imladris had been raised around them. It had been at that point when he had felt he could truly set aside the scout position he had so dreaded and focus solely on his administrative duties.

After the siege had finally ended and Gil-galad had reunited with Elrond, the High King had transferred Erestor to Imladris after it had officially been dubbed a vassalage of Lindon in place of Eregion. Despite the love he'd had for Elrond, he had initially bristled at this idea since in his view, it had been a demotion from working under Gil-galad, though he had also feared that he would be forced into serving in the position of ambassador once again, this time for Elrond. Though Erestor could not have been more surprised, and unashamedly pleased, when, as Imladris had continued to grow and Gil-galad had granted his herald independence as its ruler, Elrond had put his worries to rest by enlisting him as his chief advisor and administrator. Elrond had truly seen how his capabilities took him much beyond the office of an emissary as their friendship had blossomed while in Lindon, which had been why he had wanted him so close at his side in his administration. Though Erestor had thrived with the authority given to him by Gil-galad, he had only thrived more with the authority that Elrond had granted him since the Elf lord had long recognized his potential and had figured out how to employ it to the best of its ability.

Over time, much had changed in the valley, and Erestor had been at Elrond's side for both joyous times and demanding ones. They had been a comfort to each other upon Gil-galad's death. He had witnessed the wedding of his close friend to Celebrían, and he had watched their three children grow and had had a major hand in their academic lessons as he had grown to love them. He had been at Elrond's side when Celebrían had been brought back to Imladris after being tortured by Orcs, and he had supported him as he had worked relentlessly to heal her. He had been a steadying presence for the Elf lord when his efforts had not been enough and Celebrían had sailed, and he had been a crucial part of the support given to Elladan and Elrohir as they dealt with their anger through leading hunts against Orc parties, as well as to Arwen when she decided to stay with her grandparents. Over all of that time, the friendship between them had only deepened and had led him to become one of Elrond's closest and most trusted confidants, along with Glorfindel, as well as one of the most respected citizens of Imladris.

He knew he could not ask for another place he would rather be.

Feeling a familiar presence close by, the chief advisor's small smile returned. "How long have you been here?" he asked in nearly a whisper as he raised his gaze from his weapons.

Glorfindel returned the look from where he was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed in front of him. "Long enough to know what is burdening your mind, _mellon-nín_ ," he answered just as quietly. But then, his smile faded. "Elrond has asked me to see if I can persuade you to make a different decision."

Erestor chuckled as he lowered his eyes back to the daggers he held. "I appreciate his concern, as well as yours, though I am afraid I cannot," he muttered. "The vow I have made to myself means little when I have given my word to aid him."

Sighing, the Balrog Slayer walked into the room before kneeling on the floor beside the slender Elf's feet. "Erestor, _mellon-nín_ , please hear my words now," he said. "You have faced the horrors of war so intimately when you never should have had to."

"Aye, though it was my obligation," Erestor reminded him quietly.

"That may be," Glorfindel conceded, "though now is not one of those times." He lightly placed his hands over the chief advisor's where they were wrapped tightly around the weapon hilts. "I have always believed that Elrond was the only one who truly gave you the position you were the most fit for. An emissary was not it since you could not use your full potential, and as well as you did in Gil-galad's administration, you were often overshadowed by others. I know you, as well as I, would lend our aid in any way we could to Elrond when he is in need of it. Though breaking that vow you have made to yourself is not necessary. And... I have always ensured that you would not have to do so."

Erestor arched an eyebrow as he looked back at the golden-haired warrior. "You have what?"

Glorfindel gave him a small, sheepish smile. "I may have made a vow of my own to ensure that you would not have to use these blades again," he admitted. "After all you have entrusted me with, I am well aware of what distress it brings you. It was my hope that you would not discover this, though nothing can be done about that now. But Erestor, there is no need for you to wield your daggers. 'Tis not a time where all must do so."

The chief advisor didn't say anything for a long moment. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was touched that the Balrog Slayer had been so concerned for his well being when it came to the struggles he still faced regarding his past. A small smile appeared on his face. "Would this not just be another scouting mission I must complete?" he posed.

The twice-born warrior grinned. "Aye, because you love them so," he replied as he released the other Elf's hands. But then, he sighed. "Elrond may be able to join us in our search for Legolas and Elrohir after all. Estel has seemed to attach himself to Lindir."

Erestor's smile returned. "That is not a surprise," he said. "Lindir has a way with music that tends to soothe the spirit." His dark eyes faltered. "Nevertheless, I still have given my word to Elrond that I would lend my aid. This is something I desire to do, Glorfindel. You know how much Elrohir means to me."

"Aye, I do." Glorfindel's own features fell. "Though is there no way I could dissuade you? You need not do this. You may aid in their recovery through other means."

"I would prefer not to go back on my word, _mellon-nín_ ," Erestor told him. "I am aware this is not the same as what I have faced before. Though I would prefer not to use these daggers, I am prepared to if I must. And if I am able to advise Elrond in our search, then I would be glad to. Do you understand, Glorfindel? The more strength we have behind us, the better chance we will have of finding Aeglironion and those who are aiding him."

Glorfindel sighed as he nodded once. He completely understood Erestor's point, though it still did not settle well with him that he felt obligated to wield his blades after desperately attempting, and nearly succeeding, to keep that part of his past behind him. He also felt as though he was failing the chief advisor by not keeping his own word to prevent that from happening.

Though instead, the twice-born warrior smiled at the slender Elf. "You are as stubborn as always," he murmured.

Erestor returned the look. "'Tis not always a horrid thing," he replied. Glorfindel chuckled, and the chief advisor's smile lingered as he sheathed each weapon with careful precision.

"Nay, I suppose it is not," the Balrog Slayer agreed quietly. He then rose to his feet as Erestor did. "There is one more thing I must say. We know not what sort of situation we will be approaching as we search for Elrohir and Legolas, nor do we know how many aid Aeglironion. Should the situation turn ill, I would prefer it to be you who aids them to safety if you are able. Should it come to fighting and you must use your blades, remain close to either Elrond or I."

The chief advisor's dark eyes faltered as he began to walk toward the door, keeping his secure grasp on both of the daggers as he held them close to him. "I assure you I shall be fine, Glorfindel," he said, attempting to keep his tone level despite the anxiety that lingered just beneath the surface. He paused in the doorway, allowing his shoulders to slump ever so slightly. "Glorfindel?"

"Yes?" The golden-haired warrior approached, concern clear in his light gaze.

A moment passed before Erestor turned to face him. His face was a couple of shades paler and his eyes were a bit too bright, yet he was still giving him a small smile. "I am glad you and Elrond will be with me."

Glorfindel returned the look as he set a hand on the slender Elf's back. "Always, _mellon-nín_."

* * *

 _Thranduil stood still in front of his father, simply watching as he finished securing his sheathed sword around his armored waist. Much like the king, he was also covered with the armor customary of their warriors, his sword already within easy reach at his hip. His light eyes remained on the fair but often stern features of Oropher as he continued to ready himself for what was looming before them, finding they remained impassive before he raised his gaze to the intricate silver crown that adorned his head._

 _It had filled him with so much pride when the people of Greenwood had chosen to follow his father and had granted him the crown that would give him the name of Woodland king. Though Oropher had accepted his newfound responsibility and obligation to his people as he had any other when they had previously resided in Doriath, which was with a grace and poise he was uncertain if he himself would ever possess. It was as though the sudden added weight of the crown he wore was no burden to him at all, for it was a weight he willingly took on. His father had earned the respect, trust, and love of those he had been leading, feelings that were mutually felt by the king as he ensured their safety was one of his primary concerns since he understood a lord's place was not above his people._

 _The prince could not possibly imagine how heavy that crown was, though it was crafted as light as the one he was given to wear. Though it also contained the weight of the well being of their people, as well as the admiration those who followed him regarded him with. He was glad it was his father who had been chosen to wear it, for he had always had an elegance and a power about him that enabled him to rule with a fair, steady hand._

 _Oropher finished securing his sword around him before he raised his light gaze to his son. A small smile appeared at the corner of his lips. "Do you understand, Thranduil?" he asked quietly._

 _Thranduil was pulled from his thoughts at the deep voice, but the words were still strange to him. "I know not what you are referring to,_ Ada _," he said._

 _The king's smile broadened. "I overheard your discussion with Aearion this morn," he explained, chuckling when the younger Elf's gaze faltered. "You wondered why I answered the summons."_

 _The prince dropped his head slightly, unable to look back at his father. He had found Oropher's agreement to the High King Gil-galad's call for the armies of both Elves and Men to stand against the rising power of Sauron in the south a bit unlike him, as they had primarily thrived as a kingdom by keeping to themselves. Though he did not desire to sound as though he was questioning an order from his lord, for his word was one he had never doubted and never would._

 _Then, Thranduil slowly looked up when a light hand touched his cheek, a hand that had not changed from when he had simply been his father to now that he was king of Greenwood. His eyes met Oropher's similar ones._

 _"I understand that I have not often agreed to lend my aid in the affairs of those outside of our borders," he muttered, his smile lingering despite the peculiar glint in his eye as he carefully regarded his son before him. "Though should this force not be defeated, then none who are opposed to him shall live in peace. 'Tis a grim fate we shall all share, I fear. The only way to achieve a lasting calm is to aid one another in this time of darkness."_

 _Thranduil considered Oropher's words carefully as the latter slowly lowered his hand. The reasoning for his father's decision was a sound one, for it was something he agreed with. Though he could not shake the feeling of dread that had fallen over his heart when his father had made that decision._

 _The king gazed at the prince for a moment longer before he continued. "'Tis something to consider should you ever become king,_ penneth _. I believe the throne would suit you well. You have matured much since you have chosen to follow me here, and I doubt not that you would follow well in my stead."_

 _"_ Ada _, the people chose you," Thranduil said, startled by what his father was implying. "They love you and all you have done as their king. I could not possibly..." He hesitated with a brief shake as his head. "I would have no need to assume the throne, for you will always be the king they have desired."_

 _"Aye, but that love does not stop with me." A somber look passed over Oropher's slightly troubled features as he reached out once more and set a hand on the back of his son's head. He then closed his eyes as he rested his forehead lightly against Thranduil's. "I am proud of you,_ ion-nín _, as I always will be. Do not ever doubt that."_

It was a time that continued to haunt him, though it had been many years since. Much had been lost in the years they had fought and struggled against the forces of Sauron, and much had been sacrificed. Though it was at Dagorlad where his life had been irreversibly altered.

Thranduil let out a long breath as he slowly picked up the crown made of berries and golden leaves he'd had crafted especially for him when he had ascended to the throne of Greenwood. His light gaze passed over what remained of it, remembering back to when he had first been presented with it after he had accepted the title his father had long held before him. He had requested a different make for his own crown, for he still felt as though the shattered one that had been left behind on Oropher's death did not belong to him. The kingdom that was now his sole responsibility had reshaped and rebuilt under his rule, and though much of his father's influence had remained over the Wood, he'd had to accept that he would have to discover his own power as its ruler.

Though he had to admit it was only when he was sitting on the throne Oropher had been chosen to occupy that he had fully understood the words his father had spoken to him in the last intimate conversation he had ever had with him before they departed Greenwood. As a king, as well as a father, Oropher had made many sacrifices during that time. He had willingly given up their solitary life in effort to give his aid for a possibility that the combined strength of Elves and Men could somehow defeat the darkness from the south and prevent it from encroaching across the land, to ensure that the kingdom of Greenwood, as well as others in Arda, along with his son could thrive in lasting peace. He had given his life for that purpose, as well as for the safety of his people, and Thranduil knew in his heart that both he and Oropher had somehow been aware that the great king would not return home before they departed for Dagorlad with their army.

Though the king also realized with irritation that there would be those who had survived the rage of Sauron as he had who would look upon Oropher's actions and call them reckless or prideful. Though Thranduil, having been at his father's side when that abrupt decision had been made, knew that was not what had happened. Oropher had spotted something on the field before them while Gil-galad had not informed them of, and frustrated that he had not seen it and not wanting to risk this looming enemy getting too near the heart of the Elven forces as well as his own, he had called an early charge before the High King could direct them, and he led their army into the fray.

Thranduil knew his father. Oropher would never have risked the lives of his people, would never have risked the life of his son, for his own pride.

And it was with that burden, that weight of his father's death and how his name could be tainted, along with the burden of his father's crown that he brought with him, that Thranduil had carried on his shoulders as he led the vastly diminished army of his people that remained with him back toward Greenwood with Aearion at his side. His people, though lightly armed, had fought valiantly and with the ferocity they were known for, though many had still been lost. His sleep had suffered greatly for years after the battle was finally over and his physical wounds had long since healed, for nightmares of the horrors and death he had witnessed during the Last Alliance had plagued his dreams, as well as never faded from his waking thoughts. Though much time had passed, Thranduil could still not bring himself to turn his gaze to the south, to the memory of where all those lives, including his father's, had been lost.

A few more golden leaves broke off the crown and slowly drifted down to the wooden table.

Thranduil was well aware of what ramification his decision would bring him now, though it was one he'd had no difficulty making since he was offering his life not for his people, but for the one who meant more to him than anything. For a moment, he wondered if Oropher had experienced this same feeling of determined resignation when he was on the brink of making a similar choice so long before. Though, much as he was certain his father had felt before him, he knew his own decision was a willing one. And also as Oropher had expressed before him, he was certain that Legolas, though young in his years, would follow well in his stead. He was responsible for one of his age, and Thranduil had so much pride in his son for not only all that he had attained as both prince and captain of Mirkwood, but also how he had been told about how the prince had handled the hardships they had faced while in Imladris. Legolas had learned much about how to rule a kingdom by observing him, and his strength of character and giving nature would enable him to do so without much difficulty. With some guidance, the kingship would suit his Greenleaf well, despite his clear disinterest in the throne. He only hoped Legolas would one day understand the decision he was now making and would not think ill of him for it.

The Woodland king set his shoulders as he lowered his crown onto his head. He then turned and picked up his sheathed sword from the bed, securing it around his slender waist. His life may have now been forfeit, though once he was certain that both Legolas and Elrohir were out of immediate danger, he would not make it effortless for Máfortion to claim what he so desperately coveted. It would be a dishonor not only to himself, but to his realm as well as to the memory of his father since it was with Oropher where this traitorous Elf's true hatred stemmed from. He refused to be broken easily.

But then, Thranduil closed his eyes and rested his palm against the wall when a lightheaded feeling came over him. He wrapped his other arm around his abdomen when that familiar burning feeling returned, and he inwardly cursed his weakness as a cold sweat settled on his face. But his lingering condition from the poison also caused his mind to travel to Elrond, knowing he would have to be cautious with the next move he made. The Elf lord already seemed to be partly suspicious of him when he had come to check on him, though his mind was burdened down with his own worry for his youngest son. He would have to move soon or risk losing the opportunity he had to ensure the safe return of both Legolas and Elrohir.

The faint feeling subsided after another moment, and Thranduil opened his eyes before he picked up his cloak and draped it over his shoulders, fastening it securely in front of his neck. He then opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, closing it silently again behind him before making his way toward the staircase that would bring him down to the first level of the house.

But he had only turned the corner when a quiet, tentative voice gave him pause.

" _Aran-nín_?"

Thranduil looked over his shoulder, knowing that if anyone else had called out to him, he probably would not have stopped. A small, somber smile turned up the corner of his lips as he watched Tidurian quickly, though somewhat hesitantly, approach him.

"I have been hearing from the Imladris guards of the Orc attack," the Mirkwood guard said, concern crossing his fair features. "Is it true about what happened to Lord Elrohir and... and Legolas?"

The king sighed before giving him a brief nod. The younger Elf's clear concern for the prince touched his heart. "Aye, 'tis the truth," he confirmed quietly. "Though it was not the Orcs that took them..."

Tidurian gazed at Thranduil for a long moment before realization dawned in his eyes. "Was it... was it those Elves who had been banished from Greenwood?" he asked in just above a whisper. "The ones who harmed you?"

Thranduil's gaze faltered, and he knew that no matter what he said, the guard would not believe him. So he remained silent.

Fear replaced the concern in Tidurian's eyes. "For what purpose would they be taken, _hir-nín_?"

"None that should have involved them," Thranduil told him, fully turning to face the guard. "Though Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel, and Lord Elladan are gathering patrols in order to search for them, so I have no doubt we will find them."

Tidurian nodded once, a determined look in his eye. "Allow me to aid with the patrols, _hir-nín_ ," he said. "I wish to lend my support in their recovery."

Another small smile appeared on the Mirkwood monarch's face. He knew how close the guard had been to Legolas since he had been an Elfling, and it did not come as a surprise to him that he would want to aid in the search for him and Elrohir. "Aye, I am certain your aid would be appreciated," he replied. "Speak with Lord Elrond or Lord Glorfindel, I am certain they will accept your sword."

Tidurian's brow furrowed. "And what of you, _hir-nín_?" he wondered.

Thranduil's slightly cheerful look waned. "Do not worry for me..."

The guard's gaze passed over the king's cloak before landing on the mostly concealed sword beneath it. A look of understanding passed between them. "Allow me to be at your side, Thranduil," Tidurian murmured.

The king's gaze saddened as he slowly shook his head. "This I must do alone," he told him.

"Is Lord Elrond aware that you are departing?" Tidurian pressed.

A peculiar gleam appeared in Thranduil's eye as he considered his answer. "I would appreciate if you spoke nothing of this conversation to anyone. If I had another option, I would take it."

Tidurian noticeably hesitated. "Thranduil..."

But Thranduil reached out and set a hand on the young guard's head. " _Saes_ ," he whispered. "Speak with Lord Elrond. I am certain your aid would be gratefully accepted."

A long moment passed where Tidurian simply met Thranduil's gaze before he sighed as he lowered his and nodded once. "All right, _hir-nín_ ," he muttered. "If this is truly what is best."

"It is best," Thranduil assured him, his smile returning as he lowered his hand once more. He then bowed his head slightly to him, watching as the guard dipped his head in response, before he turned and began to make his way down the hallway.

But then, the Mirkwood monarch once again paused, though this time with confusion. In the back of his mind, a memory was trying to push its way to the surface, a memory long forgotten from his days in Greenwood. He had returned home after the Last Alliance... Helinniel had been waiting for him... the assassination attempt on him had been discovered... and then...

Thranduil glanced over his shoulder at the guard, seeing he was watching after him with an unreadable expression on his face. And then there was Tidurian, one of the young Elflings who had been orphaned after the battle. But there was something else in this memory, something he could not quite grasp...

With a sigh, the king turned and walked down the hall with purpose in his step. The memory began to fade. All he could see was his son's face.

 **Author's Note** : And that's it! I was gonna initially continue this scene, though I figured this would be the best place to stop it since the rest of it can be a scene of its own. Plus it was already on the lengthy side, lol. I admit, a lot of my personal takes on Oropher slipped their way into this chapter, but what can I say? I love that Elf king, lol. So, Elrohir and Legolas are close to leaving the borders of Rivendell, Erestor has been confronted with his past and is forced to accept it, and Thranduil is on his way to meet with Máfortion. I've been enjoying the speculation on your guys' part about whether he will uphold his side of the bargain– will Máfortion release Legolas and Elrohir when Thranduil arrives? Any thoughts on where they might be being taken (no clues this time...)? Is there something more to Tidurian, as Thranduil almost remembered? Things to think about as we wait for the next update! I sincerely hope that it won't be nearly so long. I've already made a pretty big dent in the next chapter to try to make sure that doesn't happen.

A little **editorial note**. In chapter eight where it's mentioned that Legolas and Elrohir had already reached the Ford, I had intended to be in this part with Elrohir (complete brain freeze on my part!). I have gone back and changed it in that chapter. Also, just for fun, I have gone back to "Tainted" (as well as all of my LOTR oneshots) and tweaked things with Aeglironion (as well as included Tidurian in a brief scene) to make him jive more with how he is in this story (five years is a long time between stories, and a *ton* has changed with my ideas for "Stained" than last I thought about it). With all that said, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! See ya next time!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Thank you so, so much for all of your patience for the last chapter, all of your kind words and compliments on this story, and your continued well wishes (aside from seasonal allergies acting up, I am feeling much better for those wishing me well! The stress from those couple of tough weeks is about mellowed out, so that's good, and I definitely appreciate your kind words)! You guys are seriously amazing and totally make my day! I'm also really happy that you guys all love Erestor's background, and that some of you have a better understanding or more of a liking of his character (I've been passing these sentiments onto Gwed, lol)! That's what I was hoping to accomplish with the chief advisor! I was actually a bit surprised at how quickly this chapter came along since a bit more than I expected made its way into it, but I know no one's complaining about that, lol. Lately, I've been super addicted to the rock covers of classic Disney done by Jonathan Young (and Caleb Hyles) on YouTube and have had his music on repeat, so I partially have to give credit to that for just making me feel like writing (if you haven't heard these guys and you like rock, Disney, Dreamworks, Broadway, or movie songs– including music from _The Hobbit_ – I highly suggest checking these guys out! You won't be disappointed). Inspiration can come from weird places, but that's beside the point, lol. Regardless, here's the next chapter!

In response to **Maple** : I'm so happy to hear that! Thank you for your patience for the last chapter! Not in this particular part, you haven't, but I'm glad about it! Yeah, Thranduil's in a really interesting sort of spot as far as his health and mindset are concerned. Though he's not going to let that stop him. I'm glad to hear it's exciting! Thank you for your review, Maple!

In response to **CoffeeRanger** : Hi! Yes, Erestor's past is finally out in the open! I'm glad you still enjoyed it, even though it wasn't quite as dark as you imagined it to be. I hear ya about your mind exploding in all these different possibilities, mine does this all the time, lol (and has been through all this story so far, haha. Have you written anything on this site?). The thing is, when my friend was helping me out with her headcanon on Erestor, one of the reasons it really stuck out to me was that it wasn't super unique/crazy or super tragic like a lot of background headcanons I've seen on different characters, and I felt that really just fit for him in particular. I tweaked and added a couple things, but it just really resonated with what I was doing with his character already. And it's so personal to him, a lot of the anxiety and the guilt he has is so intense since he's not a warrior by nature and had to be thrown into that lifestyle when he'd only seen it from afar before, and I think that's the part that has scarred and stuck with him after all that time. So I'm glad you enjoyed it, even though it was a twist you hadn't considered! Yeah, I agree, I love Erestor as a scout, since even though he's not a warrior, it'd be most fitting for him in a battle. And yes, all the horrors that he had seen completely changed him, as well as having to move around a lot as he kept losing his homes. Poor Erestor indeed, he needs hugs for sure! I feel the guilt he feels about not being in Nargothrond when it fell, particularly when he felt obligated to be there, because he was afraid of dying is the root of all this anxiety for him, I really do. He felt like a traitor, though I agree, it's nothing to keep holding against himself. Good point! A lot do. And yay, I was trying to do that with Glorfindel's character in this chapter! I was hoping that would be the case, lol. Oh, good! I'm glad that you felt his vow to more or less protect Erestor came across so well as something he would do! That was also my hope. Haha, it makes me happy to hear that you're geeking out about how I'm portraying their relationship and that it's being captured so well! It's just always how I've seen them. Thank you so much! *bows* Lol! And yay for Elrond! I totally agree, it wouldn't be like him at all to stay behind when his son is in danger, despite Estel's trauma. Which is why I was so happy to find an avenue for Lindir to be included in this story, because it hits two birds with one stone here– I just really wanted to include Lindir, and he can be Estel's babysitter, lol. You're totally right– with Elrond worried about everyone searching for Elrohir and Legolas, not to mention about them, he wouldn't have been able to do anything productive from back in Imladris. Hahahaha, the image of Glorfindel or Erestor (and quite potentially Thranduil) slapping Elrond upside the head when he's in that state made me legit laugh (not sure if you've watched _NCIS_ at all, but it's totally reminding me of Gibbs, lol), because they are the ones who actually would ;) And would probably enjoy it :P Lol. I'm glad the part with Thranduil and Tidurian was as sad as I'd hoped! I was trying to express how much the people of Mirkwood love and respect their king, etc (even though Tidurian has always been close to the royal family, so he's in a bit of a different boat). Yeah, Thranduil has just come to accept what it is that has to be done and isn't thinking twice about it (Me either. I can see him being like this in most situations). But good, Tidurian's acceptance was supposed to be heartbreaking; again, I was just trying to show the magnitude of the situation, so I'm glad it worked! Nervous about Tidurian, huh? Well, I can't say whether you should or shouldn't be ;) I'm glad you're picking up on his character, though– you're right, that half-glimpsed memory involving Tidurian, as well as the character himself, is actually probably one of the most important keys/puzzle pieces to this entire situation, so I'm glad you're honing in on him! As for if he's a traitor and how he's involved in everything... we'll find out ;) Lol, I don't blame you for kinda hoping for some Elrohir and Legolas Whump!, particularly with Máfortion. I agree with you, it's not necessarily my favorite thing to read/write, either, but there can be so much done, as you said, with the character elements when in those situations, and that's the part I love! So, I can guarantee you that we'll at least see a little bit of it when it comes to Legolas and Elrohir (I'm actually already cringing at a couple things I have in mind... lol) ;) No, don't ever apologize for a long review! I love getting them, and I love hearing about what you loved or were really just drawn to in these chapters (plus this was a longer chapter, lol)! I'm so happy that you're excited about this chapter as well as all the different possibilities and roads this story could continue to take, and I'm always up for discussing that kind of thing! So please, don't hesitate to do so (or feel bad about it)! :D I hope you continue to love what comes next! You, too! P.S. Yay! Lindsey's amazing! Yes! The Arena's fantastic! It's one of my favorites as far as her newer ones go. I am also currently obsessed with her Phantom of the Opera and Les Misérables medleys, lol.

In response to **Wendi** : Thanks for your review! Tidurian, huh? Well, what I can say is that there is definitely something important about him, though if that turns out to be a good or bad thing, or if he's a hero or traitor, we'll have to wait to find out ;) As for if Máfortion and co. would harm Thranduil in front of Legolas and Elrohir, yeah, I wouldn't put it past them at all... Elrohir is hurt, yes. Legolas isn't in the greatest shape, either, which we'll get a little more into here! But neither one of them are, like, critically injured. I'm glad that you enjoyed the friendship between Glorfindel and Erestor. Thank you for saying so! I hope this is as good as you were looking forward to! Thanks again for your review!

Also, a quick Happy Birthday shoutout to **Ladies Limwen and Aranel** , my friend who's so kindly been reviewing this story and discussing it with me with each update! I hope you and your sister have a great day! :) Consider this chapter a little birthday gift from me!

Just a quick note about this chapter, it does have a bit more violence in it than most previous ones, though most of it is more observed than shown, and part of it is heavily implied rather than shown. With all that said, enjoy!

* * *

Elvish:

 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _Ada_ – father  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _mellon-nín_ – my friend  
 _ernil_ – prince  
 _saes_ – please  
 _tithen pen_ – little one

 _Chapter 11_

Elladan stood before the locked door of where their prisoner was kept, his gray eyes intent as he set his jaw and glanced at the dark-haired guard posted before it. He gave him a brief nod, and the latter reached out and slid the heavy lock aside.

"Alert me if you are in need, _hir-nín_ ," the guard said.

The older twin acknowledged the statement with only one more brief nod before he stepped into the room. His gaze immediately moved to where Amonost was sitting on the hard floor, and he set his jaw as he walked toward him.

The former guard looked up at him curiously as he approached. "Has Aeglironion been found?" he wondered, a touch of hope in his tone.

Elladan stopped before the other dark-haired Elf, anger in his narrowed eyes. "No," he murmured. "Aeglironion has not been found. It would appear that our forces had been infiltrated with those who intended to aid him. As a former guard in my father's service..."

Amonost's eyes widened. "Do you believe that I would have allowed for that infiltration?" he asked. "Elladan, I have done no such act, I swear it."

The older twin briefly lowered his gaze. He desperately desired to believe him, especially since he had never doubted the guard before he had aided Aeglironion, though there was too much that was at risk for him to take one of his own. "There was an Orc attack on our borders in the night," he explained as he looked back at Amonost, attempting to keep the rage out of his tone by keeping it as steady as possible. "Though the pack was eradicated, both Elrohir and Prince Legolas of Mirkwood have not been found. We believe those who have aided in Aeglironion's escape may have taken them."

Clear concern had crossed Amonost's face at the mention of Elrohir's name, and he leaned forward a bit. "Elladan, you must understand that I would not desire any harm to befall any member of your family," he told him, the sincerity in his tone seeming genuine. "I have known you and your brother since you were Elflings, and I have followed your father long before that. This is not something I would..."

"Where is he?" Elladan interrupted in just above a whisper, his voice beginning to shake despite his best efforts to keep it level. He set a hand lightly over his left side when the faint pain in his ribs returned. "Where would Aeglironion flee? Surely, he would not linger in Imladris, but surely he would also not venture far."

The former guard let out a long breath as he slowly shook his head. "I assure you, I know not," he said. "When I brought Aeglironion into Imladris, I had discovered him near the Ford, though I know not where he, nor those who may be ordering him to act, have been stationed–!"

His statement was abruptly cut off when Elladan suddenly reached forward and grasped his tunic tightly in both hands. "Where is he?" he demanded loudly, not attempting to keep his anger back anymore as he shook the prisoner. "Where is my brother?!"

" _Hir-nín_!"

Elladan heard the guard stationed in the hall yell out to him, startled, but he ignored him as he continued to glare only at Amonost as he shook him once again. "Where is he?!"

Amonost, though surprised himself by the treatment, also seemed to understand it as he gave a resigned sigh. "I beg your pardon, Elladan, but I truly do not know where your brother would be taken..."

The older twin stared at him for a moment longer, his breathing heavy, before he shook his head. He would not accept that answer. He _could_ not for Elrohir's sake. Keeping one hand on the former guard, he swiftly bent over before pulling the small dagger he kept on him out of its sheath.

"No, _hir-nín_!"

The guard at the door's words hardly registered in Elladan's mind as he continued to gaze intently into Amonost's fearful eyes, but before he could make any other movement, two pairs of arms wrapped securely around him from behind. He resisted as they began to pull him away from the prisoner, but they were relentless and their hold on him was strong, and the older twin found himself being dragged toward the door of the room. He opened his mouth to protest, but he was instantly stilled by the calm, gentle whisper in his ear.

"Elladan, you must calm yourself, _ion-nín_."

All of the tension seemed to leave the older son of Elrond's body at these words as he was brought out into the hallway. He felt one pair of arms fall away from him as he watched the guard hurry over to close the door and slide the lock back into place, alarmed, before he slowly turned to look back at his father, who still kept his hold on him.

"I... I apologize, _Ada_..." he murmured, instantly lowering his gaze again when the master of Imladris took his dagger from his loosened grasp. "I... I was not thinking..."

Elrond gave his eldest son a knowing look before he sighed and set his free hand on the side of the older twin's head. "I understand, _penneth_ ," he told him quietly. "All of our hearts are burdened with worry, and our judgement may be clouded. Which is why we must remain as calm as we are able and decide together what the best course of action to take is."

When Elladan said nothing in response, the Elf lord continued. "Glorfindel will be leading a patrol to cover the land your patrol has not. I have sent him to speak with Erestor in effort to attempt to dissuade him from the decision he has made, though knowing my chief advisor as I do, he will join us on the patrol." He paused, offering his son his weapon back when he saw he was calm enough to have no more intention of using it. "Should they be beyond the Imladris borders, then those regions shall be surveyed closely, also. I assure you, we will find Elrohir and Legolas."

Elladan gave his father a weak smile, accepting the smaller blade back before he slid it back into its sheath. " _Hannon le_ ," he whispered.

Elrond gave him a brief nod. "I have also spoken with Thranduil," Elrond told him. "He... he still recovers from the effects of the poison, and his own worry for his son is great. He is resting for a short time, and he has assured me he will aid us in any way he will be able with these patrols. I will also do as I am able, once I check on Estel, which I was on my way to do."

"Where is Estel?" Elladan wondered, noticing for the first time that the small mortal boy in question was not clinging to the Elf lord as he had been since Aeglironion had briefly taken him. He had also noticed a look he could not read in his father's eye when he had mentioned Thranduil, along with his noticeable hesitation, though he did not mention it.

A small smile appeared on the master of Imladris' fair face. "He is with Lindir," he explained. "I discovered him with our minstrel this morning, listening to his music."

A matching look appeared on the older twin's face. "That does not surprise me. I believe Lindir could do much good for Estel, for it would not be the first time he has soothed the souls of those in this house." But then, the cheerful look waned as a sigh escaped from him when he found he still could not fully meet his father's kind gaze. "I truly do apologize for my actions, _Ada_ ," he murmured. "I know not what I was thinking..."

Elrond gazed back at him both with understanding and with sorrow, and he reached out and wound his arms once more around his son as he pulled him close. "I am fearful for Elrohir, also," he admitted just as softly when he felt his son lean into him. "Though I am confident we will find him. I do not believe who took him truly desires harm to come to either him or Legolas."

Elladan winced before he looked up at the Elf lord. "Then what do they want, _Ada_?" he pressed. "Why would they take them?"

Elrond simply set a hand on the back of the older twin's head. "Let us concentrate on finding them, _penneth_."

His father was keeping something from him, that was clear to him. But Elladan knew better than to question him, and instead, his gray gaze traveled downward as the pain in his ribs once again flared. "Do you believe Elrohir to be all right?" he wondered hesitantly.

Elrond took a moment to consider his answer, carefully lowering Elladan's head to his shoulder and holding it there. All he could feel from his youngest son was dread, pain, and, deeper than that, fear. "I pray so, _ion-nín_."

Then, the Elf lord glanced behind him when the sound of hurried footsteps approached, and he loosened his grasp on his oldest son when Elladan took a step back from him as they both watched who they recognized to be a member of the younger Elf's patrol running toward them. "What is the meaning of this?" Elrond asked, keeping his tone formal despite the dread he felt when he saw the clear fear on the soldier's face.

The dark-haired Elf took only a moment to catch his breath before holding his hands out toward them. "We... we found this, _hir-nín_... in the forest..." he answered.

Elrond knew before he even looked at what the guard was offering him that it was not something he would want to see. He both felt and heard the breath leave Elladan's body as he wavered from beside him, and after taking and releasing a steady breath of his own, the lord of Rivendell lowered his gray eyes to the object in the other Elf's hands.

His blood ran cold.

* * *

Glorfindel walked down the hall at a swift pace, his light gaze set intently ahead of him. Erestor kept in pace beside him as he finished securing his daggers around his slim waist, though it was an action the Balrog Slayer wished he could ignore as he chanced a glance at his companion. The chief advisor's stern features were impassive, unreadable. Though he could tell by the way Erestor's jaw was set firmly and the slight droop to his shoulders despite the way he held his head high that the added weight of the daggers, and all that came with them, was immense. However, it did not slow his step, nor did it dim the determination in his dark gaze. Though he admired the slender advisor for his loyalty to Elrond, which was strong enough to cause him to revert to that part of him in his past that he both despised and feared, Glorfindel was also determined to help the person he considered to be his most trusted friend carry that weight if he was needed.

After a moment, Erestor glanced back over at the twice-born warrior. "What is it?" he asked, somewhat irritably as they hurried around a corner. Though it was easy to tell the feeling was not genuine.

However, Glorfindel simply shook his head. "'Tis nothing to be concerned about," he answered, his tone quiet as he attempted to keep it offhand.

Though he came to an abrupt halt when the chief advisor did, his light eyes widening slightly in surprise as his smaller companion turned to face him. There was a look he couldn't quite read in his gaze. "What is the matter?"

Erestor's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the Balrog Slayer's bemused features. "You are not still planning to attempt to dissuade me to make a different decision?" he wondered, almost accusingly.

Despite himself, the golden-haired warrior grinned before letting out a deep chuckle. "Your allegation pains me deeply, _mellon-nín_ ," he told him lightly as he set a hand over his heart, even though it was the very feat he wished he could accomplish. The cheerful look waned ever so slightly. "I would not dare."

A moment passed before the chief advisor's features softened as he let out the breath he hadn't fully realized he had been holding. "The blame would not be yours if you were to," he muttered. His gaze faltered before he lowered it, and he hesitated before continuing. "There is a part of me still... a part of me that does not..."

Glorfindel reached out and set a had on the dark-haired Elf's shoulder, causing him to pause in his musings. "I understand," he assured him, all traces of his former humor gone. "Erestor, there is no need for you to–!"

"I did give Elrond my word," Erestor reminded him, his voice regaining some of its usual authority as he raised his gaze to his. He had to admit, even if only to himself, that he found the other Elf's presence comforting.

The Balrog Slayer allowed a half-smile to return to his face. How well he recognized the workings of his friend's constantly active mind as it attempted to retain some semblance of control and order. "Aye, that you did," he agreed quietly as he lowered his hand. "Although..."

However, his words trailed off when approaching footsteps could be heard, and both he and the chief advisor turned in time to watch one of the fair-haired Mirkwood guards who had accompanied Thranduil and Legolas to Imladris hurry around the corner. Surprise appeared on the younger Elf's face as he came to a sudden stop and straightened his posture at the sight of them.

"My apologies, Lord Glorfindel. Lord Erestor," he said, bowing his head to each of them in turn.

Glorfindel and Erestor briefly exchanged amused looks when the guard's gaze was lowered before they forced their features to return to being impassive as they turned back to face him. "Peace, there has been no harm done," the former told him, causing the new arrival to breathe a quiet sigh of apparent relief as his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. "Though may I ask where you were going in such haste?"

The Woodland guard nodded once. "I was searching for Lord Elrond, or for yourself, Lord Glorfindel," he explained, causing the Balrog Slayer to arch an eyebrow. "I wished to speak with you, though I feared I may have been too late."

The twice-born warrior once again glanced at the chief advisor before he turned back to the guard. "We were on our way to speak with Lord Elrond ourselves," he said. "Though what you wish to say may be said to me first. I am afraid it must be brief, though what is it that you need to speak to me about?"

"I wish to join the patrol to search for Prince Legolas and Lord Elrond's son," the younger Elf told them without hesitation. "Please accept my sword."

A moment of silence passed before Erestor cleared his throat and spoke up. "I know we have spoken on one occasion as you are the head of the Mirkwood patrol, shortly after one of our own guards deceived your king," he muttered, noticing how the other Elf's jaw clenched at the memory from a few days before. "Though I am afraid I do not recall your name."

"'Tis Tidurian, Lord Erestor."

"Tidurian," the chief advisor repeated with a hint of a smile before continuing, "I appreciate your willingness to aid us, as well as your king. Though would your sword not be better suited to him?"

At these words, Tidurian briefly, though noticeably, hesitated. "I beg your pardon, _hir-nín_ , though it was my king who suggested I speak with Lord Glorfindel and Lord Elrond about joining the patrol to search for them," he replied quietly.

Glorfindel looked back at Erestor with a slight shrug, merely receiving an impatient gesture and glare in return. The golden-haired warrior then turned back to the guard. "I cannot place any fault on you for desiring to search for your prince," he told him. "Therefore, I accept your sword. Though you may accompany us to speak with Lord Elrond, for his word will have final authority."

Relief crossed Tidurian's youthful features as he bowed his head deeply. " _Hannon le_ , Lord Glorfindel."

A smile appeared on the Balrog Slayer's face as he nodded once in return. He then glanced back at Erestor, who read the silent message in the look before he turned and began to make his way down the hall, before regarding Tidurian carefully. "I am aware that King Thranduil has been told by Lord Elrond to rest to regain some of his strength before he joins us on the patrol, though I presume he has also sent you to help aid us," he said. His eyes narrowed slightly when the younger Elf's gaze noticeably faltered. "Though I must ask you, is there something you have not told me?"

Tidurian's breath caught in his chest under the intense, knowing gaze of Glorfindel. His mind frantically raced as he debated about what he could say, remembering what Thranduil had told him not long before as he left on his own.

 _"I would appreciate if you spoke nothing of this conversation to anyone... If I had another option, I would take it..."_

Though he had nothing but tremendous respect for the twice-born warrior before him, his loyalty, above all else, was to his king. It was with that thought in mind that Tidurian slowly shook his head, his gaze remaining steady as he met Glorfindel's. "Nay, _hir-nín_ ," he murmured. "There is nothing."

* * *

 _A throbbing pain pulsed through Legolas' skull from where he was being held in place by a couple of the Elves who were aiding Máfortion. Elrohir was being held by the other right beside him, his lithe form trembling slightly while his face was void of all color as he struggled to keep himself upright. Though he was concerned for the younger twin, the prince's horrified gaze could hold nothing other than the sight before him._

 _The dark, gnarled trees swayed menacingly around them, and he could hardly see the tall, proud figure that stood before them since they were engulfed by the heavy shadows of the forest. Though he did not need to rely on his sight to know who this figure was. In his heart, he knew._

 _Then, a second figure, nearly as dark as the shadows that had once hidden him, approached the first, and Legolas attempted to fight out of the hold of the Elves behind him when Thranduil was forced to his knees on the hard ground. Now that the thick darkness was no longer concealing him, the prince's breath caught in his chest when he saw his father clearly._

 _The vibrancy that seemed to emanate from the king had greatly dimmed. His face was pale and gaunt. A few of his slender, ringed fingers appeared to be dislocated. Deep crimson stained his light tunic as well as matted his golden hair. Dark bruises marked his often stern yet fair features. A fresh, thin scar that ran through his left eye forced it to remain closed. His crown, or rather what remained of it, lay broken beside him, though one golden leaf continued to cling to it._

 _Yet, despite his beaten body, Thranduil still possessed a certain strength, a certain grace, within him that did not reflect all the brutality he had endured while in captivity. His shoulders remained straight, his head held high. His right eye remained clear and alert, revealing the pride he still carried himself with that refused to allow him to be broken. It was the king, the father, Legolas knew so well and who had his complete devotion._

 _The prince's gaze then traveled to the figure behind Thranduil, his eyes narrowing as Máfortion stepped nearer to his father, his clear green eye gleaming as a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. He reached out and traced his fingertips lightly over the king's cheek before brushing a few loose strands of his fair hair out of his face._

 _The black-haired Elf then turned to another figure beside him, and Legolas nervously watched as Aeglironion looked back at both him and his father hesitantly. In his hands was a dagger with a curved, broad blade stained with hints of blood. Máfortion held a hand out to him expectantly, though the former cook's eyes widened with horror as he briefly shook his head and held the weapon closer to him._

 _Suddenly, a loud sound was heard from the thick trees behind them, and Legolas glanced at Elrohir, seeing the same fear was on his face, as they both quickly tried to look to see what had made the noise. The three Elves who were holding them even appeared wary as they shifted uncomfortably, also trying to find the source of the sound. It was somewhat close by, and it almost sounded as though it had been some sort of guttural yell while the trees groaned._

 _They were not alone._

 _However, Máfortion and Thranduil both seemed to be unperturbed by the disturbance, and taking advantage of how Aeglironion was also appearing uneasy and distracted, the former reached out and snatched the dagger from his loosened grasp. The prince quickly turned back in time to see Máfortion set the weapon's blade against his father's throat in a threatening manner, though Thranduil did not flinch. Legolas attempted to fight out of his captors' hold once again, and he nearly succeeded before the pounding in his temples caused him to pause and allowed Eruantien and Suiauthon to regain their tight grip on him to prevent him from reaching the king._

 _Máfortion's lips were moving, the words going unheard by Legolas as he continued to struggle, though he could see in the dark-haired Elf's arrogant features that he was taunting Thranduil. His father, however, was defiant in his silence, keeping his gaze straight ahead and his features remaining impassive._

 _But then, Thranduil's right eye landed directly on his son, and the intensity of the look in his gaze caused Legolas' breath to catch once again. There was determination there, as well as acceptance. But beneath that, there was also something more, and the prince felt a thin line of tears form in his eyes as he stilled when he realized it was meant as a silent apology for him._

 _Seeming to grow impatient by his captive's lack of response, Máfortion grasped onto Thranduil's hair and forced his head forward as he tightened his other hand around the dagger's hilt._

 _The last golden leaf broke off the Woodland king's crown and drifted to the ground before being taken by the wind and swallowed up by the shadows of the trees._

 _All Legolas could hear in that moment as time seemed to stand still, as a light and warmth inside of him flickered and died, was his own agonized and rage-filled scream echoing in his ears._

As the pounding in his temples forced him toward consciousness, the first thing Legolas was completely aware of was the single tear that trailed down his cheek from behind his closed eyes before being absorbed by the dark cloth wrapped tightly around his head. He took a deep, shuddering breath, unable to fully let it out.

A nightmare, that was all it had been. A terrible nightmare. Though as his heart continued to race as he attempted to catch his breath, he was beginning to doubt his own convictions. The emptiness inside of him, along with the fury and the despair, that he had felt by the end of the dream had felt so real that even now, he could feel his heart almost physically shattering. It was a feeling he could not express, for he had never expected to experience it, nor did he want to ever truly experience it. It was something that shook him to his very core, and the final image of Thranduil was one he knew would continue to haunt him.

Though now, he knew beyond a doubt just what it was that Máfortion truly desired from his father.

A whispered chuckle was heard close to his ear then, causing the prince to tense. "It is all right, _ernil_ ," the voice of one of his captors murmured, his very tone taunting him. "It will not be long now before we arrive. And then we shall see if your father is as noble as he would have us believe."

His words caused a tremor to pass through Legolas' body. There was an underlying warning in those words, much as he felt there had been a warning in the dream he had woken from. It had felt much too real. Though as he was becoming a bit more conscious of his surroundings, he felt that they were still on horseback and moving swiftly. His hands were still bound before him, and his entire body was stiff as though they had been riding nonstop for a long time. He had to wonder just how long they had been riding, through judging by how he felt, it had been hours.

And though he could not see, the air felt different somehow, almost thicker. Heavier. It was with a sense of dread that he realized they had left the borders of Imladris.

Though Legolas also found that he was struggling to think clearly, for the dream he'd had was refusing to leave his memory. The haunting images of his father, the strange force that had been in the trees, the dark forest itself, the indescribable pain that had erupted in his chest when...

 _"I will always come for you,_ ion-nín _..."_

They were familiar words that Thranduil had spoken to him more than once, and though he had always found comfort in them before, they now gave him an unshakable feeling of fear and dread. The prince attempted to settle both his breathing and his heartbeat, focusing only on the strong, kind features of his father– the features he had known for as long as he had lived, not the pale, bruised face he had seen in his nightmare.

 _"_ Ada _..._ saes _... do not come for me... I beg of you..."_

The familiar feeling of warmth and light in his heart flickered, though it still remained as strong as ever.

Then, Legolas heard as the horses they were taking began to shuffle nervously as they continued to draw nearer to their destination. Where were they heading? All he could see in his mind's eye were dark, gnarled trees looming before them, ready to enfold them in their shadow before that image began to dim.

 _"_ Saes _..._ Ada _... do not come..."_

It was the last thought on his mind before darkness once again engulfed him.

* * *

The sun was slowly beginning its downward trek from its peak in the sky as Thranduil rode swiftly through the trees. It had been a couple of hours since he had retrieved his white horse from the stables behind the gates of Rivendell, and though his steed had seemed hesitant to leave as though feeling what was now ahead for them, the king had finally coaxed him to depart. Though he had been riding for as long as he had already, he was well aware that he had a considerable distance to cover yet, as well as that Máfortion had gained much ground over him with his son and Elrohir and may have been nearly approaching their destination. It was that thought of Legolas, the pain and dread he could feel from him, and the desire to not allow him to stay with Máfortion for long that caused him to spur his horse forward at a bit of a faster pace.

As the trees continued to flash by him in a blur, the Woodland king found his thoughts swayed away from his purpose and instead started to linger on moments he had shared with Legolas through the years. They were ones that had always held special significance to him, and they were ones that would continue to do so for as long as he lived, no matter how relatively short of a time that may now prove to be.

They were thoughts and memories that brought peace to his heavily burdened heart.

 _He stared at the bundle wrapped in blankets held securely in Helinniel's arms, lingering back from the bed even though he had been told by the midwife that everything had gone well. She looked up at him and smiled, and despite how pale her face was and how exhausted she appeared, the true joy radiating in her features made her just as beautiful as always to him._

 _"Come, Thranduil," she murmured. "Come hold your son."_

His son _. He looked back at his wife uncertainly for a moment before he slowly approached the bed and lowered himself to sit beside her. Helinniel's smile lingered as she held the bundle toward him, and he hesitated before he reached his hands out and carefully took what she offered him into his own arms. He was surprised by how lightweight and how small the baby was as he cradled him close to him for support, and he used a couple ringed fingers to pull the blanket a bit further away from his child's face._

 _It was not the first time he had seen a newborn Elfling, though this time was stunningly different. He felt as his breath left him as he gazed down in wonder at the smooth features of his son, which to him resembled the queen's gentle ones, while his eyes remained closed in peaceful sleep. His light eyes passed over the faint traces of fair hair on top of his head before he slowly ran a fingertip tenderly over the tiny ones of the Elfling that gripped the blanket wrapped around him. His heart, which had been racing in anticipation of this moment, began to slow, finally reaching a point where it beat in time with the child's in his arms. His child._

 _Tears formed in his eyes as a broad smile spread across his face before he leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to the top of his son's head. A couple escaped and trailed down his cheeks when the small Elfling made a quiet sound of content in his sleep, and he closed his eyes and carefully held him closer._

There had never been a moment of greater joy that Thranduil had ever experienced in his life than when he had held Legolas in his arms for the very first time. Never before had he loved someone so completely and so much more than his own life, never before had he desired to protect someone so fiercely. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips despite himself as he guided the horse to leap over a couple of protruding tree roots as he continued to follow the path. Though that feeling of pure joyousness had never been matched, the wonder he had felt at being a father and raising a child had never ceased as his son continued to grow.

 _He let out a long, weary breath as he rubbed his burning eyes from where he sat behind his desk in his study. Neither he nor Helinniel had slept much the previous night, for Legolas had not slept well and had been continually calling out for them in the night. There had been nothing wrong with him, which was fortunate; he had simply had a restless night, as though there had been something in the dark that had frightened him. Though, exhausted or not, that season's financial reports were not going to complete themselves._

 _A quiet sound of frustration caused a small smirk to appear on his face as he raised his gaze. The look broadened when he spotted the small form of Legolas sitting on the floor beside a sturdy cushioned chair not too far from the desk. Helinniel had been summoned by her mother to aid her with a life-threatening injury suffered by one of their soldiers in the healing ward, so he had offered for their young son to stay with him for the afternoon. A quiet chuckle escaped from him when he saw clear disappointment in the Elfling's smooth features as he gazed intently at the chair._

 _"Try once more,_ tithen pen _," he suggested. He could not deny that after the long morning full of paperwork, this little distraction was most welcome. After much observation of his parents, Legolas had recently been attempting to walk much like they did, though he had not had much success. All he had been able to accomplish yet had been to pull himself into a standing position with support, and Helinniel had guided him to take a few steps, though he had not been able to do so on his own without her hand._

 _Legolas turned his head at the sound of his father's deep, timbre voice, and he held out a small hand toward him. "_ Ada _!"_

 _"Yes,_ ion-nín _," he said with a smile. "Come, try once more."_

 _The little prince, seeming to understand the king's words, turned back to the chair with fresh determination in his eyes. He reached out with both hands and grasped the cushion, starting to pull himself to his feet as he mumbled under his breath._

 _He set his quill aside, his eyes on his son with interest. Legolas held onto the chair tightly, attempting to find his balance, before looking back at his father. After a nod of reassurance, he took one tentative step and then another, though he still had yet to release his support._

 _A moment passed before the Elfling took one more cautious step before slowly releasing the chair. He held his breath as he watched Legolas waver and nearly fall, a look of panic in his youthful features, before he caught himself by setting one tiny hand on the floor to push himself back up. The prince wavered once more before slowly taking one step forward, and then another. And then another._

 _A broad smile appeared on his face as he watched his son making his way toward his desk with ungainly steps, having to stop a few times to regain his balance or to rest. Legolas then looked up at him, mirroring the look as an excited giggle escaped from him before he took a couple quicker steps forward and nearly stumbled. He swiftly rose to his feet and walked around his desk, bending over and catching the Elfling before he could hit the floor. He then effortlessly scooped him up into his arms and held him close, chuckling himself when the little prince snuggled into his chest and babbled happily into his robes._

Thranduil could clearly recall the feeling of pride he had experienced on that day, as well as the excitement of being able to witness the prince's first major steps as he continued to grow. From that point, it had seemed as though his growth had accelerated, and there had been times where he had felt as though he could no longer keep in pace with Legolas. This feeling had been especially prevalent after Helinniel had died, and he had been left to raise their son alone. Though it had been these moments with the energetic Elfling that had aided his own heart to heal.

 _A small smile appeared on his face as he watched Legolas hesitantly reach out and run his hand along the length of the long nose of his white horse in the stables. "Are you certain you wish to attempt to ride him,_ ion-nín _?"_

 _The young prince quickly looked back at him, and for a moment, there was an anxious flicker in his wide blue eyes. Though it was gone as soon as it had appeared, replaced instead by a look of excitement. "Aye,_ Ada _!" he answered brightly._

 _"Very well." He approached the horse himself and whispered into his ear, urging him to be gentle with the small rider, before guiding his steed out of the stables to a small clearing with Legolas hurrying to keep in step with them. He quickly secured the saddle around the horse before he leaned over and picked up his son, situating him carefully in it._

 _"Be cautious,_ tithen pen _," he stated, watching as the prince took tight hold of the reins. "We will not go too swiftly."_

 _"All right,_ Ada _." Legolas grinned broadly when his father began to lead the horse forward, laughing a little as he gripped the reins a bit tighter._

 _The cheerful sound from his son caused another smile to return to his face as he continued to lead the horse around the clearing. He glanced up at the prince, seeing his eyes were shining as he looked at the trees around them. It was a look of excitement from the Elfling he knew would always be imprinted on his memory._

Aside from how much joy that afternoon had brought both him and Legolas, it had also been the first time he had realized just how fearless his little Greenleaf truly was. He had been momentarily distracted by Aearion finding them to discuss a brief trade matter that had immediately needed either his approval or objection, and the prince had taken off on the horse on his own at a bit of a quicker pace than they had been going. Both he and his chief advisor had panicked, though the king's horse had, as instructed, been gentle with his young rider, and Legolas had been perfectly safe.

Though as Thranduil continued to guide his horse along the forest path, his keen gaze on the lookout for any member of Elladan's patrol which was still searching for any sign of both the prince and Elrohir so he could avoid them if possible, he also remembered how it had not felt like long at all before Legolas had begun to start shedding that childhood innocence as he continued to mature.

 _Legolas slowly raised the bow and narrowed his eyes slightly as he pulled back on the drawstring. A moment passed before he released the arrow, and he sighed with disappointment as he lowered the bow when the point didn't hit near the center of the target he had been aiming for. He then hesitantly glanced over his shoulder at where his father was watching him a little distance away on the training grounds._

 _"It is all right,_ ion-nín _," he said as he approached the disgruntled prince. "You simply need to adjust your aim." He smiled encouragingly as he reached out and set a ringed hand on top of his son's head before offering him another arrow. This was the weapon that Legolas had been most excited to learn how to use when his training had begun, so he could understand the disappointment he was feeling at not having a solid handle on it yet. Though it was only his first attempt, so he also knew he could not be too harsh on himself._

 _Sighing, Legolas took the arrow he was offered and positioned it carefully on the bow as he pulled back on the drawstring once again. "How is my aim,_ Ada _?" he asked._

 _He once again stepped closer to his son, his light gaze tracing over his stance, draw, and position. "'Tis better," he answered, carefully raising his arms only a little more. "There. See if that is better for you,_ penneth _."_

 _The prince nodded once as he focused on his target, narrowing his eyes once again before he released the arrow. A broad smile appeared on his face when this one was much nearer to the center, and a similar look spread across his face as he met his son's excited gaze._

Thranduil could not have been more proud of Legolas as he continued to observe his progress during his training. The prince had grown more comfortable with his blade work as time had passed as well, though where he had truly excelled after his initial attempt was with his bow. Over time, the prince's skill with the weapon grew to be unrivaled by anyone in his service, even before he had officially earned the position of being a warrior in his ranks.

Though the day that his son had earned that title had been one of the proudest, though most bittersweet, days of his life, as well as one that he would always remember.

 _He took a few strands of his son's long, fair hair in his slender fingers, hesitating for the briefest moment before he began to weave them together. A broad smile of excitement formed on Legolas' face as he felt his father's gentle hands work. The road had not been short, nor had it been simple, though all of the training he had received in order to become a warrior of Mirkwood in the king's service had been worth it._

 _The first plait was completed, and he deftly began on the second. He could feel the prince's anticipation building, and a small smile appeared on his own face as he continued to braid these few strands of hair. The closer he came to finishing, the more his heart was filled with pride, yet it also grew heavier._

 _Finally, the second plait was completed, and he set a light hand on Legolas' shoulder with a quiet sigh. The prince eagerly turned around to face him, the grin still lighting up his youthful features, and met his gaze. He then quickly dipped his head in respect to the king, an action which was returned before he rested his other hand on the younger Elf's head._

 _No longer was his little Elfling standing before him. Now his son was a true soldier in his forces._

 _He had no doubt that Legolas would do him proud._

Thranduil knew that his feeling from that day had been correct; never once had the prince caused him to lose his pride in him. There had been some mistakes he had made as he rose to the rank of captain in Mirkwood's defenses, though more often than not, he had proven that he was worthy of the warrior plaits he had been given to wear as he continued to mature. There were times he missed the small Elfling who would come to him for every need, though he could be no prouder of his Greenleaf than he was.

The king's ringed hands tightened around the reigns of his horse as he guided him around a few tree branches that were hanging low over the path. The image of Máfortion's piercingly green eye flashed through his mind, and he spurred his steed forward with a little more speed. He knew he should have expected the black-haired Elf to attempt to lure him to him through Legolas, though he had not done enough to prevent it. Guilt and dread grasped his heart. He could not bear to think of what Máfortion would do should he be provided the opportunity, though he would do all in his power to ensure that both his son and Elrohir were safe. The other Elf's hatred was his to bear, for the prince was innocent and had no hand in whatever ill Máfortion had with both him and Oropher.

Though this thought caused Thranduil's brow to furrow. His father... What could his father have possibly done to cause Máfortion's strong hatred toward him? What had happened to cause the rift that had formed between them, that had caused the former Greenwood soldier to attempt to kill his king, that had caused the anger and resentment to linger and now be his? He remembered asking Oropher these kind of questions while he yet lived, though he had never received an answer to them. Though maybe now he would be able to get the answers he wanted...

 _"_ Ada _..."_

Thranduil gasped quietly, slowing his horse almost to a stop before he urged him to keep going when he heard the whispered, nearly silent voice and familiar presence brush against his mind. _Legolas_. The voice had sounded weary, yet determined. There was something else in that single word, also. An anxiety, pleading with him... a warning.

Though the Woodland king had no more time to think about what his son had been trying to convey to him when he felt another presence not too far in front of him before he heard the sound of a restless horse. Thranduil slowed his own to a steady pace, knowing who it would be even before he saw him as he rounded the thick tree on the path before him. He then brought his horse to a stop when he was met with a familiar brown-haired Elf.

Anessen smirked when he looked back at the king. "I knew you would come, Thranduil."

* * *

The silver of Elrohir's circlet gleamed in the light of the deepening sun where it sat on the desk in Elrond's study. The Elf lord himself let out a long, weary breath as his gray eyes scanned the dented headpiece, his concern for his youngest son lingering from when the member of the twins' patrol had presented him with it. Elrohir's presence felt as though it was getting further away from him, causing his anxiety to rise. His gaze then moved back to the map he had been poring over, focusing on the area the soldier had told him they had found the circlet in while mentally erasing ones outside of it.

"From what we have been told by reports from Elladan and Elrohir's patrol, there has been no indication of any movement in the forests here," Glorfindel stated from where he was studying another map with Erestor, pointing to a few areas of the trees surrounding Imladris to the south. "Nor nothing here." He gestured to the area directly to the north.

"And the weapons belonging to Elrohir and Legolas were discovered somewhere around here, not far from our gates," Erestor added, pointing to an area slightly beneath the Balrog Slayer's finger a bit more to the west. He sighed and briefly shook his head. "Who Aeglironion has been taking orders from is certainly not making our efforts to track them difficult, as it appears they are taking a straight path out of the valley."

Glorfindel's eyes flickered. "That is not usually a positive indication," he murmured, meeting Erestor's gaze.

Elladan glanced up from the third map of the areas surrounding Rivendell that he was looking over. Tidurian, having had his sword accepted by Elrond, lingered a bit back from the older twin, though close enough to be able to see the map as well. "So you are saying they are desiring us to find them?" the former asked. "Why would they after taking Elrohir and Legolas?"

"They could be meaning to ensnare us, or there is something else they desire," Glorfindel answered quietly, looking over at Elladan. "If that is the situation at hand, Elrohir and Legolas are merely a means to getting what it is they truly want. I would assume they have little consequence to Aeglironion and those who are aiding him, though that also means they are expendable..." He paused at the sharp intake of breath from the older son of Elrond before giving him a reassuring smile. "Do not fret, we will find them, _penneth_."

"We are narrowing down on where they could be headed," Erestor told him. "All that is left is for us to determine what it is they desire."

Elrond sighed as he rose to his feet from behind his desk and turned to the window overlooking the valley. "'Tis Thranduil," he murmured, his gray gaze passing over the trees that stretched out before him. "As he believed..."

Glorfindel, Erestor, and Elladan all looked at the master of Rivendell curiously while Tidurian stiffened and lowered his eyes to the floor. "Thranduil?" the chief advisor repeated. "I know that is what he believed to be so, though what purpose does taking Elrohir serve?"

A moment passed before Elrond glanced over his shoulder to meet his gaze. "I feel that was meant to distract us from the situation at hand," he explained. His brow furrowed as he turned to Glorfindel, for he had been absent when they had talked over the situation they faced before. "Thranduil and I have discussed this matter further. It would appear that Aeglironion has been forced to act against us by another, though for what purpose, I am not certain. Though by what Thranduil has told me, Máfortion was a friend of Oropher's as well as a soldier in his service when he was chosen to be king of Greenwood. Though something had happened to sever their relationship, something that caused Máfortion to attempt to assassinate Oropher. The attempt, of course, was unsuccessful, though it resulted in Máfortion's banishment. Thranduil is unaware of what Oropher could have potentially done to cause this resentment, though we believe Máfortion's recent actions have resulted from that. Taking Legolas, and even poisoning you, Glorfindel, have been messages to him, for this hatred for Thranduil's family still lingers. I believe that taking Elrohir was a means to keep me distracted from what he intends to do, as we could threaten that."

"So it would not have been too difficult for Aeglironion to have come across this Máfortion upon his own banishment," the twice-born warrior said as he mulled this information over, his gaze darkening at the mention of the poisoned dart. He ran his hand over the back of his neck, causing Erestor to turn to him with a watchful gaze. "His own bitterness could have resulted in him agreeing to Máfortion's plan, though what power does he have over Aeglironion to force him to act?"

The Elf lord shook his head once. "That is what we must discover if we mean to prevent it." He then turned his gaze back to his chief advisor. "Would you see if Thranduil is rested enough to meet with us?"

"Of course." Erestor dipped his head briefly before he cast one more pointed glance to Glorfindel. Feeling the look, the Balrog Slayer looked back at him and gave him a small but reassuring smile. Sighing, the slender Elf turned and began to make his way toward the door of the study.

"I feel as though they have already passed beyond our borders," Elrond murmured thoughtfully to himself, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to the map spread out on his desk. "So we must focus on those possibilities. I still do not feel that they would venture far since it is Thranduil they desire, and in his condition..." The rest of his words went unspoken, but they were still understood by all.

Tidurian's brow furrowed as he suddenly leaned a bit closer to the map Elladan held. "Where were their weapons discovered?" he asked. When the older twin pointed to the trees a little west from where Imladris' gates were located, his gaze traced along a path that led past the Ford of Bruinen and beyond the borders. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "Do you believe it could be possible they would bring them to–!"

However, his wonderings were abruptly cut off when a loud clatter was heard, and he, Elladan, and Glorfindel all immediately looked up while Erestor stopped in the doorway and quickly turned to face the window. Elrohir's circlet had fallen to the floor, and Elrond was leaning heavily on the desk, his knuckles white as he kept a tight hold on the wooden surface while his lithe form trembled slightly. His face was growing paler, and his gray eyes were faraway, the telltale sign that he was seeing something beyond what was before him.

The Elf lord felt his breath coming raggedly, though all of his focus was on the brief snippets of images passing before his vision that had begun after his hand had lightly brushed against his son's headpiece, attempting to grasp onto them.

 _Dark trees with gnarled branches loomed all around him, covering the ground in shadow. A fair-haired Elf was on the ground beside a dark-haired one, shadow engulfing them in a small, suffocating space. The single remaining golden leaf clinging to the Woodland king's broken crown shuddered before breaking off, drifting to the ground before being swallowed by the surrounding shadow. A blade stained with blood was held in the air. A familiar anguished cry echoed in his ears. A low, guttural yell shook the trees..._

Elrond felt himself waver as his eyes widened. His legs began to grow weak beneath him.

 _A giant, dirtied hand pinned him to the thick trunk of one of the looming, gnarled trees, crushing him..._

His breath caught as his lungs seemed to contract, leaving him unable to take another one. Pain spread through his chest as his heart seemed to struggle to beat before wavering and then feeling as though it had stopped completely. His vision darkened. His legs collapsed from underneath him, and he closed his eyes as he began to fall.

"Elrond!"

Glorfindel rushed around the desk and caught his friend before he could hit the floor, carefully bringing him close to support him as he knelt. Erestor dropped down to the ground beside him, reaching out and setting a hand on the Elf lord's arm while Elladan and Tidurian hurried over, the former kneeling on the Balrog Slayer's other side as he looked into his father's pale face with horror.

" _Ada_!"

A moment passed before Elrond took a deep breath as his eyes slowly fluttered open. The pain in his chest subsided as his breathing began to ease, though he still felt weak and shaken from what he had seen and experienced.

 _"_ Ada _..._ Ada _was fighting, and... and a twowl huwt him bad... His eyes wewen't opening..."_

Estel's earlier words from when he had told Lindir about his dream echoed in his mind, and Elrond closed his eyes once again as he focused on settling his breathing and racing heart. It was now clear to him just what searching for his son may cost him, though he also knew he could not abandon him. He would not leave Elrohir.

"Elrond, are you all right?" Glorfindel asked, his concern clear in his slightly wavering tone despite how he attempted to keep it steady. Erestor tightened his hand on his arm in a comforting way.

" _Ada_ , speak to us," Elladan urged. "What happened? What did you see?"

Another moment passed before Elrond slowly opened his eyes, his weary gaze passing over the four worried faces above him. Though surprise replaced the looks when he spoke.

"I know where they have been taken."

 **Author's Note** : All righty, that's it for this one! Elladan's struggling with what's happening to Elrohir, Legolas is having disturbing dreams, Thranduil's about to enter a situation that couldn't possibly turn out well for him, and Elrond is seeing equally disturbing things as Legolas (As evil as I am with this story, it did make me sad to pseudo kill off the king of Mirkwood and the lord of Imladris in one chapter, lol. I adore both of them, I swear!). Though Elrond does know where Legolas and Elrohir are... Do you guys have any guesses? Don't worry, it'll be revealed in the next chapter! And I'm also curious about the question that has been raised about Tidurian's character by a couple of you guys after that near memory Thranduil had in the last chapter. Is he a traitor? Or something more? We'll have to wait to find out for sure just what sort of role he plays ;) I think that's all from me at this point. Thanks for reading! See you guys next time!


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Wow, I'm so, so sorry for disappearing off the face of the FanFiction world for a while there. Not only has work been keeping me super busy, but I've had a couple of emotionally challenging weeks– not sad, just a lot of different sorts of emotions to grapple with. I think this will continue to be a process that I will be working through for a bit yet, but it's ultimately a good thing that I'm doing so. I just finally listened to a good friend of mine who's been an older brother to me for quite some time and took some healing time for myself for a bit. I don't foresee that being needed again (at least for nearly as long), so I hope that there won't be quite as big of a gap in updating again. But I am okay, so no worries there, lol. I just needed that bit of time to get myself on the right track, and I'm glad I listened to him because I'm feeling more refreshed, and writing has come a lot easier again. And I just feel bad that I haven't updated in so long. Hopefully this chapter will make up for my long absence. Thank you guys for all of your awesome, encouraging reviews, I truly appreciate them all! They make my day :) And thank you all for your patience.

In response to **Ella-728** : Aww! Though I must say I am glad that the emotional elements of Legolas' dream worked as well as I'd hoped it would. It was sad for me to write, believe me! But yes, it was only a nightmare for the time being! Lol, aww. Thank you so much for saying so! I'm happy you love this story so much! Thanks for your review, Ella!

In response to **Maple** : I know I'm evil, and it was really hard for me to write a couple of these scenes, believe me! Fortunately, they are just nightmares and flashes of things that could come at the moment, but still. I hope it lives up to that excitement! I will take that as a compliment, lol. Thanks for your review, Maple!

In response to **CoffeeRanger** : Yes it does! Yup, they know where they're going, thankfully. And yes, that's more or less what I'm doing, though they won't get there at *exactly* the same time, but it'll be somewhat close, anyway :) And nope, it's not gonna go well. Yeah, I feel bad for Elladan here (and I'll be continuing to do so for a while...). I'm glad his actions are understandable! I totally know what you mean. I'm an older sister to a friend who was practically raised as my brother, as well as the younger sister to another friend who has undoubtedly become my older brother, and in either case, I'd totally be the same way. Yes, Amonost was very fortunate Elrond came along when he did, that's for sure. Right, you and me both, lol. We could try to do what we could against an Elf, though! :D Haha. Yeah, that section with Legolas was killer to write, that's for sure. Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry! That's horrible... What an awful dream to have. I can sort of relate– I had a dream not quite this violent about my grandmother (I was raised with her and my mom), and that just petrified me. I was so afraid of having that dream again, so I can relate to that feeling of that fear, but also that not wanting to have that dream ever again. It was definitely one of the dreams I felt the worst after, that's for sure, as I can imagine you feeling the same (especially because he wasn't home after. Gosh, that'd be awful...). Right, yeah, Legolas has the kidnapped thing going for him, but still, a dream like that is horrible enough in itself. Oh, good, I'm glad the part with him pleading with Thranduil not to come was as heart-wrenching as I'd hoped! That was hard to write, too... Haha, I hear you there! And yes, Legolas deserves that, he really does! I may give you permission to take him ;) Oh, good, I'm glad Elrond's vision worked out well, as I'm happy its connection to Estel's dream did (I was iffy about the dream meaning anything for a little while as I had originally just meant to use it as a clue, but then I decided that this was better). Yup, Elrond definitely knows what it means (and likely would not tell anyone...), but he's going to go after Elrohir anyway. Poor guy– he should rightly be scared for! Yes, Thranduil's with Anessen, Elrohir and Legolas are still captives of the crazy Elf... Haha, I'm sorry for the wait for this. I've had a pretty tough couple of weeks, but it seems to be improving as I've found a source of emotional healing, so that's good! Ah, okay. Yeah, I completely understand what you mean about being a little nervous to post things here (or anywhere) for the public to see. I've been writing since I was six years old, but it took me until much later, obviously, to start doing this (before that, it was just my family, too). I totally understand the nerves as I had them also, but I'm glad that you're thinking about it! You seem to have a good mind for it with what we talk about with my chapters. I've definitely used this site over the years to craft and form my style and improve. Yes! I LOVE Lindsey's Phantom! Me, too, it's my favorite musical! I actually have a Phantom-themed tattoo on my right forearm, which I intend to add a second part to, lol. But yes, she does an absolutely amazing job of it! :D Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying this story so much! Haha, yes, cliffhangers are a lot of fun to work with ;) Thank you for your wonderful review, as always! :D

In response to **livius** : I apologize for the wait, I've had a really busy couple of weeks! I'm glad you love this story so much! I hope this chapter was worth the wait! Do you? I'm curious to see if what you're thinking about Tidurian ends up being what I have planned! Thank you so much for your review, I really appreciate it!

* * *

Elvish:

 _mellon-nín_ – my friend  
 _daro_ – stop/halt  
 _saes_ – please  
 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _tithen pen_ – little one  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _Ada_ – father

 _Chapter 12_

The darkness hung heavily over him, nearly compressing his lungs, as a rotting smell lingered around him and nearly overtook his senses.

It took him a moment to realize that he was lying stretched out on the hard dirt ground and was no longer riding on horseback, and Elrohir started to push himself up on his arms, pausing and placing his bound hands over his ribs when a sharp pain shot through them. He waited a moment for it to pass as he attempted to catch his breath before slowly sitting up completely and looking at the darkness pressing in around him. At first, the younger twin believed the dark, thick cloth to still be wrapped around his eyes, but when he tentatively reached up to touch his face, he felt it had been removed. A twinge of panic touched his heart. He could not see much of his surroundings despite his sharp eyesight, a sensation he was unaccustomed to. It was enough to unnerve him.

Where was he?

Then, the younger twin gasped when a quiet, pained whimper fell slightly muted on his ears, and he quickly looked around him for the source of the sound. He reached out with a little difficulty due to his limited mobility, hardly able to see his own hands in front of his face as he searched, frustrated by his hindered sight. The quiet sound was heard a second time, and he hastened his search.

Finally, he felt his fingertips brush against cold hands, which were also bound together. Tightening his own around them, Elrohir winced slightly as he moved his stiff body closer to the second figure, hardly able to make out his companion in the darkness. He moved his fingers up the arm he knew belonged to Legolas, feeling what seemed to be dried blood in the long strands of his fair hair before finally coming to rest on top of his head. He shook his head briefly, his eyes narrowing with concern.

"You should not have had to suffer this," he whispered to himself.

"... No. Neither of us should have to suffer this..."

Elrohir was startled to hear the weak voice, his companion's pain clear in his tone. He squinted, attempting to see the younger Elf's pale face a bit more clearly in the stifling darkness. "Are you all right, _mellon-nín_?" he asked, raising his voice slightly.

A long moment passed before he received an answer. "I have fared better," Legolas answered quietly as he quickly assessed the injuries he had sustained. Though despite the throbbing pain that still lingered in his temples, he knew the most grievous wound he had suffered had not been a physical one. Those, he knew, would heal relatively quickly. But it was the images of his beaten yet not broken father that he had seen in his terrible dream, the sound of his own furious and agonized scream that still echoed in his ears, and the indescribable pain he had felt in his heart as the familiar, warm light he knew more than any other flickered and died within him that were still at the forefront of his mind. Those, he knew, would linger. A shudder passed through his body. "Though I will live."

Relief filled Elrohir's heart, causing a small smile to appear on his face despite the slight concern for his friend that came along with it. In case the prince could not see the look, he tightened his fingers around his cold ones, an action which was delicately returned.

"Where are we?" Legolas suddenly wondered, his tone continuing to grow stronger as he slowly propped himself up on one arm and looked at the darkness around them as his eyes continued to adjust to it. "The air is damp. Heavy. And that stench is horrid..."

The younger twin sighed as he shook his head slightly. "I know not for certain," he replied. "Though Máfortion cannot be far... He brought us here and means to keep us here for a reason." He paused thoughtfully as he glanced to his right, where seemingly just out of reach, the passage that led to wherever they were was brighter, signaling that was where they would discover the source of that light as well as a potential way out. "Although I may have a thought of where we..."

Though before he could finish, his body stiffened when a distant noise fell upon his ears, seeming to come from above them yet all around them at once. Footsteps.

He was coming.

Elrohir tightened his hold on Legolas' hands as the prince carefully finished pushing himself to his knees with a wince, and they both waited tensely for their captor. The younger twin held his breath as a light appeared at the other end of the slightly brighter passage, and the prince felt his eyes widen when he knew the person who was determined to claim the life of his father, who had carried some unknown ill against his grandfather, was drawing near.

 _The sword gleamed as it was placed against Thranduil's throat... the last golden leaf on his king's crown shuddered before breaking off and being swallowed by the shadows... his own scream echoed in his ears..._

A slight tremble passed through Legolas' hands, though from the fear for his father or the anger at the one who had taken them captive or an even blend of both, he was uncertain. Whatever the cause, he was grateful when Elrohir's slender fingers tightened their hold around his to steady them.

Then, they both closed their eyes and turned their heads away when the bright light from a torch engulfed the small space they were in, though they both tensed when a familiar deep laugh reached their ears.

"I see you have awoken. Your timing is exemplary, as it saves us the trouble of having to revive you ourselves. We have some matters that must be discussed with the prince."

Legolas squinted against the bright light from the torch as his eyes struggled to adjust, seeing that four silhouettes were just beyond the flames. It was not long before he could begin to recognize specific features, and his jaw clenched when he met Máfortion's gleaming, piercingly green eye.

"Speak with me of what you must," he snapped, his eyes narrowing when he was able to see Eruantien and Suiauthon standing behind their primary captor. Behind them lingering back closer to the lighter passage and averting his gaze from the two captives was Aeglironion. "Though you may set my companion free. He has no dealings with my father that would be of use to you."

However, Máfortion simply smirked as he glanced over his shoulder at two of the fair-haired Elves standing directly behind him. He nodded briefly, causing both Eruantien and Suiauthon to walk forward. Before either Elrohir or Legolas could respond, they had grasped the younger twin roughly by the arms and wrenched him away from the prince. The dark-haired Elf attempted to struggle free before a stifled whimper escaped from him when the motion jarred his throbbing ribs, and the little color that had resided in his face swiftly left. For added measure, Eruantien's hand connected solidly with Elrohir's face, though he set his jaw and refused to vocalize the pain as he lowered his gaze.

Legolas, despite the pulsating ache through his head, attempted to reach him, though he was stopped abruptly when Máfortion roughly grabbed his hair from behind and forced him to turn toward him instead. In the light from the torch, the prince noticed that Aeglironion was regarding Elrohir's condition with dismay before he looked away.

"Aye, I must admit that Elrond's wretch means nothing to me," the black-haired Elf murmured, his smirk broadening when Legolas tried but failed to hide a wince as the throbbing in his temples increased. "Though he has served his purpose well. We could not have reached here in an efficient manner had Elrond not been distracted enough to amass his full strength against us as we attempted to leave his borders. His love for his son has been his ruin. As your father's love for you shall be his, as his father's was before him..." His smooth features darkened as he then roughly shoved Legolas away from him, watching as the younger Elf landed awkwardly as he attempted to catch himself with his bound hands. "No, my dear prince. Your companion's fate shall be the same as yours, which will now rest upon the decision your father makes."

Legolas sucked in a breath at these words. What decision was Thranduil being given to make? He turned to look at his captor towering over him over his shoulder. "What ill do you carry against my father?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice steady. "Why do you desire his life so? How has my grandfather acted against you?"

For a moment, Máfortion appeared to be taken aback by his words. He then began to reach toward him again, though he was prevented from doing so by Aeglironion setting a hand on his arm.

"Is there need for this?" the former cook wondered quietly, hesitance crossing his face as he glanced down at the fair-haired Elf.

Though Máfortion simply shoved him away with a bit more force than was necessary, his eye darkening dangerously. "Mind your place," he spat. "And do keep in mind our accord. You shall not gain what you desire should you stand against me." When Aeglironion said nothing more and instead averted his gaze, his smirk returned before he pushed the torch into the other Elf's hands. "That is what I believed."

Máfortion then turned to Legolas again before he dropped to one knee beside him, and before the prince could begin to defend himself, the older Elf's hand was wrapped securely around his throat. In his other hand, the blade of a small, thin dagger gleamed in the torchlight.

"Your family never deserved the title of king," he hissed, looking back into the Legolas' wide eyes without emotion. "Your grandfather was not fit to carry that crown, nor is your father." He shook the prince once in his anger before a quiet chuckle escaped from him. "Are you aware of how I lost the sight in my eye, princeling?"

Legolas looked back at his captor steadily as he struggled to take a full breath. Even if he were able to speak, he would not have. It was a question he did not know the answer to, and it was one he did not necessarily wish to know.

However, Máfortion's smirk returned as he glanced at the dagger he held, the blade still gleaming in the firelight. "Your father robbed me of it," he murmured, causing shock to cross the prince's pale features as he returned his gaze to his. A thoughtful look crossed his face as he regarded Legolas for a long moment. "I do not believe it would be so... uncalled for to return the sentiment, do you? Mayhap it will give your father, the wise and powerful king that he believes he is, something to reflect on before his life is mine..."

Legolas felt his heart begin to race, both from need for breath and out of fear as he watched the dagger draw slowly, steadily, nearer to his face, convinced that Máfortion could feel it in his fingers. He struggled to keep his fair features void of expression as the tip of the blade delicately skimmed his cheek. Despite how he could feel his body beginning to tremble, he attempted to keep his eyes open and staring directly at the dark-haired Elf as the dagger's point came even closer to his left one...

"Stop!" The anxious though weak voice echoed throughout the tunnel, causing Máfortion's hand to stay. "Stop! Please! _Daro_!"

Their captor quickly looked over at where Elrohir was being held by Eruantien and Suiauthon with frustration, seeing that even though the younger twin was struggling to stay upright, he had a pleading, though determined, look on his face as he watched the unfolding scene with horror. " _Saes_ ," he added, this time in a more subdued manner. " _Daro_..."

He then stifled another cry when Suiauthon's hand connected with the side of his head.

However, Máfortion grinned as he laughed, pulling the dagger away from Legolas' eye before roughly shoving the prince to the hard ground. "Nay, our guest may speak if he so desires," he told them as he rose to his feet, though his tone was mocking. Ignoring Legolas gasping for breath before him, he stepped over the prince and walked over to where his other captive was being held, stopping directly in front of him and leaning over so that their eyes were level. "Tell me, son of Elrond, why do you halt me?"

However, Elrohir moved his gray gaze away from the taunting eyes of their captor, his features empty.

Máfortion's eyes narrowed as he reached out and grabbed a handful of his dark hair, forcing the younger twin to look at him. "You try my patience," he snarled quietly. Dangerously. "Answer me, or you shall suffer for your insolence."

Elrohir remained silent for a long moment, his gaze remained steady. "Do with me what you will," he muttered in just above a whisper.

Legolas coughed a few more times before pushing himself up on his arms, looking over at his friend with fear. Aeglironion's features faltered before he turned his back on his former lord's son, closing his eyes as he set his jaw. Máfortion glanced down at the dagger he held before looking back at his raven-haired captive with a gleam in his eye.

The flames of the torch flickered, its light beginning to falter.

Elrohir's hoarse, agonized screams echoed throughout the tunnel.

* * *

"Should we ride without stopping, we should reach the Trollshaws in about nine hours," Glorfindel stated as he worked to secure his sword around his waist. "Eight to reach the borders if we move with all haste."

Erestor's dark gaze faltered as he watched the twice-born warrior. "That is still ample time for Máfortion to do what he desires with Legolas and Elrohir..." he murmured.

The Balrog Slayer paused before glancing at an open doorway not far from them, knowing his lord and friend was inside the room preparing himself for the search for his son. His concern for Elrond lingered, however, after the flashes he had seen not long before. They had clearly taken their toll on him, and he had the distinct feeling that the Elf lord was keeping something from them. What it was he was unsure, though it certainly worried him.

But then he turned his gaze to the chief advisor. "Aye, though it is my hope that since it is Thranduil he desires, he will keep Legolas and Elrohir alive." Then, his brow furrowed. "Why do you look at me in that manner?"

Erestor stiffened defensively, his eyes narrowing. "In what manner do you speak of?" he demanded.

The traces of irritation in his friend's voice caused Glorfindel to chuckle. "In that manner in which you regard me with when I am about to leave for a patrol," he explained. A smile spread across his face. "What concerns you, _mellon-nín_?"

The slender advisor looked back at him with surprise before he shook his head. "I am not..." he began, though when the golden-haired warrior arched a challenging eyebrow, his protest ended with a sigh. His gaze flickered with hesitation as it passed over the other Elf's paler features. "Are you certain you are... well enough to ride along with us? What if it comes to a skirmish?"

Glorfindel's cheerful look slowly vanished as he sighed himself. "I understand your concern for me," he told him. "Though I assure you, my dear advisor, I would not be preparing to depart if I did not feel I would be able to."

Erestor folded his arms. "Even with the poison so freshly out of your bloodstream?" he pressed, any traces of uncertainty gone from his tone.

A small smile returned to the Balrog Slayer's face as he absently rubbed the back of his neck. "Aye, Erestor, even after being afflicted with such grievous poison," he said lightly, causing the chief advisor to roll his eyes. "I swear to you, _mellon-nín_ , I am recovering well. If it eases your mind, I swear to be cautious and will not exert myself to do what I am unable to do."

"Mayhap it would ease my mind more if I were certain you would hold yourself to your own words, _mellon-nín_ ," the chief advisor muttered, though he could not prevent the slight smirk that turned up the corner of his lips.

Glorfindel gave him a shrug of feigned innocence before his fair features once again became serious as he reached out and set a hand lightly on the back of Erestor's head. "Though, should this become a skirmish, please remember my words," he replied.

The slender Elf met his gaze. "Remain with you or Elrond and aid Legolas and Elrohir to leave if I am able."

The twice-born warrior nodded once before he removed his hand. He watched as Erestor lowered his gaze to ensure his twin daggers were secure around him, though as he did so, his light eyes narrowed as an undeniable feeling of dread that he could not pinpoint touched his heart. He turned to look at the other end of the hall where Elladan was standing with a few members of his patrol and securing his quiver of arrows around his torso before casting his gaze to Elrond's open door until finally landing on the chief advisor before him once more.

It was then the dread once again rose within him.

Not far away from inside his room, Elrond stood before his bed, his gray eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as he slowly pulled Hadhafang out of its sheath, the long blade gleaming in the evening sun. It had been so long since he had had the need to wield it, yet the hilt was still familiar in his hand. He gave the sword a test swing, finding his arm effortlessly remembered the motion, his fingers knew the precise place to grasp the handle to maintain the most control, his body was still familiar with the proper stance for the most effective strike. As it had been for so long, Hadhafang was still a part of him, connected to him as a limb was, as effortless to wield as a breath.

The Elf lord carefully slid the blade back into the sheath before casting his gaze to the window and looking out over the valley. It was likely that Máfortion would have reached the Trollshaws by now with Legolas and Elrohir, so he knew that time was of the essence. If they could settle whatever grievance, whatever ill, he had against Thranduil and his family peacefully with words and without anyone being harmed unnecessarily, that would be preferred. Bloodshed was something he did not desire. Though he also was prepared to do whatever was required of him to ensure that both the prince and his son would be able to return safely, and his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.

A near silent footfall and a presence behind him caused Elrond to turn around to see that the head of the Mirkwood patrol who had accompanied Thranduil and Legolas to Imladris was standing in his doorway, looking back at him hesitantly. "What may I do for you, Tidurian?" he wondered pleasantly. "Are you prepared to depart?"

Tidurian glanced down at the sword at his hip before he turned back to the master of Rivendell, unable to completely meet his gaze. "I beg your pardon, _hir-nín_ ," he muttered. "But there is something I must speak with you about. 'Tis urgent."

Elrond's brow furrowed as he swiftly worked on securing Hadhafang around his waist. "What would that be?"

The guard glanced out into the hall before he took a few uncertain steps into the room. "'Tis King Thranduil..." he began.

The Elf lord looked back at him curiously before he walked the short distance separating them so that he was standing directly in front of the younger Elf. "Has some ill befallen your king, _penneth_?" he pressed.

Tidurian let out a long sigh, looking around the room as though he could find the answer to the the dark-haired Elf's question somewhere there. Though finally, he brought himself to meet the lord of Imladris' intense gaze. "He... he instructed me not to speak of it to anyone, although..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "King Thranduil has already departed... for the Trollshaws... a few hours ago..."

The guard was uncertain of what he was expecting in response to this news, though silence was something he could surely say had not been it. He watched Elrond carefully, seeing that he made no move and his fair features remained stoic, although his gray eyes flickered with a look he could not discern.

Before either of them could say anything more, an anguished scream came from out in the hall. Panic caused Elrond's heart to race as he moved past Tidurian and hurried out of his room, his gaze landing on the end of the hall where members of the patrol that would be accompanying them, along with Glorfindel and Erestor, were gathered. He hardly registered that the head of the Mirkwood patrol was not far behind him as he sprinted down the corridor, the soldiers and his advisors moving aside when he approached to reveal Elladan.

The Elf lord's breath caught in his chest.

His older son was kneeling on the hard ground with his bow lying forgotten beside him, hardly able to keep himself upright as he kept his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Another pained scream ripped from his throat as he hunched forward more, a couple tears leaking out from behind his closed eyes and trailing down his pale cheeks.

Elrond immediately moved forward and knelt on the ground in front of him, wrapping his arms around Elladan and feeling that his lithe body was trembling. The older twin attempted to pull away from him, panicked, though the master of Rivendell held onto him securely. Elrond then quickly looked up at Glorfindel, who nodded in understanding as he and Erestor both started to steer the few members of the patrol away.

Once they were alone, the Elf lord turned his attention back to his quietly whimpering son, not relenting his hold even though he continued to resist as he instead willed him to feel peace as he attempted to soothe him. "Elladan, _ion-nín_ , I am here..." he murmured, placing one hand on the back of his head before bringing it to rest on his shoulder. "'Tis all right... Breathe, _penneth_ , and tell me what is the matter..." Though he felt he already knew what his answer would be, for it was a dread he shared.

A strangled sob escaped from the older twin, his body tensing for a moment before he leaned weakly into his father. "El... Elrohir..." he gasped out.

A thin line of tears formed in Elrond's own eyes as he cradled Elladan close, feeling he was still slightly shaking as he clung onto him. A dim yet persistent pain had begun to form near his own ribs, and with the fear and agony that came along with it, he knew that something terrible had been done to his younger son.

Though as much as he desired to aid Elrohir, he also knew he could not in his present situation. Instead, he closed his eyes as he rested his head against Elladan's when another quiet sob escaped from him, focusing as much as he could on giving him comfort.

Both father and son simply knelt in each other's embrace in silence, knowing that words would and could not bring them solace or relieve their pain.

* * *

The sun continued to lower as two horses swept along the path through the valley.

Thranduil tightened his hands around his steed's reins as he kept in swift pace behind Anessen as they made their way toward the Ford, and beyond the Imladris borders, the Trollshaws. For a brief moment, the king was reminded of when he had first met Estel what felt like not too long before and the fear of trolls that had plagued him, as well as when his own son had shared a similar fright for a short time when he had only been an Elfling. And though from reports he had gathered over the years informed him most of the creatures no longer resided in the forests, there was still a chance a few lingered in the depths of those trees. It was a thought that unsettled him yet was not prevalent at the forefront of his mind, for there was a much more prominent threat, and he could also understand why Máfortion had chosen the location he had to hide and wait for the opportune moment to enact his plan against him. The Trollshaws were outside of Elrond's protective power, and scouts from Rivendell would not venture to them often in their rounds. As long as he was cautious of his surroundings and with the rare chance he may be discovered, his father's former guard could have gone undetected for as long as he wished. It was an ideal situation for him to be in.

Though why had he chosen now to enact those plans, Thranduil wondered as he guided his horse to leap over a protruding tree root, when he had been to Imladris on more than one occasion since his banishment? What power did Máfortion hold over Aeglironion, who, to him, it appeared he had used as his inside source for information from Rivendell?

As he followed Anessen around a bend, the Mirkwood monarch thought back to the last time he had seen Máfortion on the eve of his banishment from Greenwood. He remembered how Oropher and Aearion had personally accompanied him to the borders of the forest. There had been a silent standoff between his father and the former guard before heated words were exchanged and the chief advisor had had to step between them. The king had then whispered something to Máfortion, and though Thranduil had not been able to hear what was spoken, it only revealed how deeply the bitterness between them ran as Oropher's once trusted friend spat at his feet before he cast his green eye to where the prince had been standing with members of the forest patrol before turning his back on his former kingdom and vanishing into the shadows of the trees.

It was a look that still haunted Thranduil, and even as he continued along the path, the cold feeling of dread touched his heart. There had been such a strong hatred in Máfortion's gaze in that moment, both for him and for his father, though along with that had been a threat, a warning.

And now the Woodland king was well aware of what the former guard had been warning him against as he rode to meet one he never believed he would see again for the life of his own son. He straightened up a bit more when the rushing water of the Ford came into view, appearing almost crimson in the light of the deepening sun.

Then, Thranduil winced as a sharp pain moved through his temples, and he leaned forward a little as he let out a shaky breath when a nauseous, faint feeling threatened to overcome him. His hands tightened around the reins as he closed his eyes, a thin sheet of sweat breaking out on his face. He had not exerted this much strength or energy since he had been poisoned, he knew, and he was also aware that this could have been the start of a possible relapse that Elrond had cautioned him about if he pushed himself too much. This was something he could not afford, not now... Feeling his master's weakness, his horse slowed his pace with a nervous whinny.

Hearing the sound, Anessen glanced back at his companion, and a smirk spread across his face when he saw the king's features had lost nearly all color and he appeared to be unable to take a full breath. "Come now, Thranduil," he said, his tone mocking, bringing his own horse to a stop when the other steed refused to go any further. "Surely you do not wish to change your mind? Your son is waiting for you, depending on you to spare him. You would surely not abandon him to such a fate?"

A moment passed before Thranduil slowly opened his eyes, though his gaze was as sharp and intense as always as he met his former guard's cruel one. "I give you my word," he replied, attempting to keep his tone steady despite how his breath still shook. "And I intend to uphold it. I will meet Máfortion."

Anessen's smirk broadened. "Then I will follow you once more, _hir-nín_ ," he murmured, tauntingly gesturing to the Ford before them.

The Mirkwood monarch looked from the other Elf to the river, taking a deep breath as he straightened his posture. He cast one more glance over his shoulder at the valley of Imladris behind him before holding his head high as he guided his horse, who was hesitant, across the water, splashes of crimson at their feet.

* * *

"Did the evening meal appeal to you, _tithen pen_?"

A broad smile spread across Estel's face. "It was good," he answered, reaching out and wrapping his hand around the minstrel's slender fingers. "I'm fuwl."

Lindir smiled in return as a quiet chuckle escaped from him as he guided the small mortal out of his room since he had needed to stop to gather his smaller harp before they made their way to the Hall of Fire. Elrond had requested that he keep an eye on his foster son that morning, though he had not been aware that he would be in his company for the entire day. It was not that he did not enjoy having Estel with him, though it was undoubtedly more difficult for him to get any sort of work that he needed to attend to done. However, he also had a strong feeling that something was drastically wrong, for the Elf lord would not have been parted from the traumatized child without good cause.

"That is good, Estel," he said as the looming double doors of their destination came into view. "It was supposed to so you would not go to sleep hungry."

The five-year-old beamed up at the minstrel as he pulled open one of the doors, and they stepped inside the warm room that was brightly lit by the broad fireplace across from them. The large space was nearly empty save for a few lone Elves who were attempting to read or scratching away on parchment in the quiet of the room. The Hall would soon begin to fill with more as the dinner hour wound down. "I had fun today," Estel told him as they made their way toward where a cushioned chair was located on one side of the fireplace.

"It gladdens my heart to hear it." Lindir gave the boy another small smile as he carefully set the small harp on the seat before kneeling on the floor beside it and unfolding some pieces of parchment he had brought with him to look over.

Estel tilted his head curiously before he sat on the minstrel's leg, trying to see the dark ink marks clearly. "What awe you looking at?" he wondered.

"Remember that song I was playing for you this morn?" Lindir posed. When the child nodded, he turned back to the parchment. "I began to write it also, though it is still not finished."

"Awe you going to pway that tonight?"

"Mayhap, if I can decide on how I should want this piece to end," Lindir explained, his brow furrowing as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration.

"You shouwd!" Estel told him with excitement, a broad grin lighting up his eyes once more. "It was vewy good."

Lindir chuckled before ruffling the boy's dark hair. " _Hannon le_ , Estel."

Scowling, the small mortal tried his best to straighten out his unruly tresses before he giggled himself. Though before he could say anything more, another deep, familiar voice reached his ears.

"It lightens my heart to hear that sound again, _tithen pen_."

Estel gasped, his eyes widening, as he quickly looked up to see the tall, lithe figure that had appeared in the Hall of Fire and had made his way over to them without being noticed. " _Ada_!" he exclaimed, jumping up and hurrying over to the Elf lord as quickly as his short legs could carry him.

Lindir looked up with interest, watching as Elrond smiled as he bent over and wrapped his arms around the child when he tightly hugged his leg. A similar look appeared in his own youthful features, though it quickly vanished when he noticed the gleam of a sword hilt beneath the other Elf's deep blue cloak. Hadhafang. The minstrel's eyes narrowed slightly. It had been so long since his lord and friend had wielded the blade, and it unsettled him to see it now.

"I missed you today, _Ada_!" Estel continued, grinning up at his foster father.

"Aye, as I have missed you," Elrond replied fondly, setting his hand lightly on top of the child's head. "Though I also see that you have enjoyed spending time with Lindir."

The five-year-old nodded enthusiastically as he grasped onto the Elf lord's hand with both of his small ones and began to pull him closer to the fireplace. "Come listen, _Ada_ ," he said. "Lindir has beaut'ful music he's going to pway..."

Elrond sighed, though he forced his smile to linger. "I regret to say I am unable to stay, _tithen pen_ ," he told him, immediately noticing the disappointment on the boy's face. "Though I assure you, I will hear Lindir's music as soon as I am able." He then turned to the minstrel still knelt beside the cushioned seat. "May I have a word?"

"Of course, _hir-nín_." Lindir rose to his feet and approached Elrond before smiling down at Estel. "May I entrust you with an important task?"

The despondent look that resided in the small mortal's features instantly vanished as one of excitement took its place. One of his small hands released his foster father's and once again found its way to Lindir's. "What is it?" Estel asked brightly.

Lindir bent down a little so that he was closer to the child's height. "May I entrust you to watch over my harp?" he whispered. "Are you capable of this task?"

Estel glanced at the silver stringed instrument sitting beside the fireplace before looking back at the younger Elf, determination in his gray eyes. "I wiwl watch it!" he exclaimed. Though he cast one uncertain look up at Elrond before he slowly, hesitantly, released his hand.

The Elf lord chuckled as he watched the boy hurry over to the cushioned seat, sitting on the floor beside it before he curiously picked up the pieces of parchment the minstrel had left there and began to look over them himself, attempting to understand what he was looking at. "Your music has always seemed to soothe the spirits of my children," he muttered.

Lindir turned back to the older Elf, a small though faltering smile on his face. "I am glad to be of service, _hir-nín_ ," he said. "Though what was it you desired to speak with me about? As humbled as I am, I do not believe it was about my music."

The cheerful look slowly vanished from Elrond's face as he met Lindir's gaze. "Nay, though I wish it were so," he replied. He sighed. "I apologize for how long Estel has been in your care. I do hope it was not an added burden."

"Not at all, it was a joy to have him in my company," the minstrel assured him. "I have not yet had the opportunity to spend so much time with him." He paused. "Though may I inquire why my services were needed in that regard?"

Elrond took a moment to consider his next words before he spoke. "You have been informed that Aeglironion has escaped imprisonment after his actions against King Thranduil of Mirkwood?" he wondered, keeping his tone low so Estel could not overhear them.

Lindir nodded. "Aye, _hir-nín_ ," he answered. "Is this why you have been called away?" He glanced down at Hadhafang at his waist.

The master of Imladris followed his gaze before covering the sword's hilt a bit more with his cloak. "In essence," he explained. "There is another who has directed Aeglironion to act, and he has threatened my family. I will be riding with Glorfindel and Elladan as well as a few members of their patrols, for this must be seen to with all haste. Erestor is accompanying us also, as is the head of Mirkwood's patrol."

The minstrel's gaze darkened. "What of Elrohir...?" When Elrond said nothing and instead moved his gaze to the flames blazing in the fireplace, his face paled. "I... I understand, _hir-nín_..."

"Would it be a burden to you if Estel remained in your company for some time longer?" the Elf lord asked, meeting his gaze once again. "I understand it is difficult for him to be apart from me after what he has endured, yet I cannot remain here. We will be gone through the night, though 'tis my hope we may return not much beyond first light."

"Of course not, I will gladly keep him in my company," Lindir answered, glancing back at where Estel was now standing by the cushioned seat when he heard a couple strings on the harp were tentatively played by his small fingers. "Although, if I may be so bold, _hir-nín_ , it is your company he requires."

A moment passed before Elrond gave him a regretful smile. "I am aware. I assure you I will return as soon as I am able. I simply wished to tell him that I was departing."

Lindir nodded once and took a step back while the Elf lord instead walked forward, dropping to one knee beside the cushioned seat and setting a gentle hand on Estel's back. "May I speak with you, _ion-nín_?"

At first, the child didn't even seem to notice his foster father or hear his words. Elrond's brow furrowed. " _Tithen pen_?" he pressed, leaning a little closer to him. "Estel?"

Finally, the small mortal slowly turned to look at him, and the lord of Rivendell's breath caught in his chest when he looked back into his wide gray eyes. There was terror there, and the child's smooth features were pale with fear but otherwise blank. It reminded him of the haunting look on his face when he had woken from a nightmare a couple nights before, right before Aeglironion had escaped.

"It is all right, _ion-nín_..." Elrond murmured, reaching forward and setting a hand on the back of Estel's head before carefully bringing it close to rest against his chest while wrapping his other arm around him securely.

A long moment passed where the boy did not respond to his embrace. "Not safe..." he finally whispered.

The Elf lord glanced down at him curiously. "Who is not safe, Estel?" he asked.

Another long moment of silence passed before he received an answer. "Evewyone..."

Elrond's eyes narrowed as he lightly ran his fingers through the child's dark hair. Before he could think of anything to say in response, however, whatever had been causing his foster son's strange behavior seemed to dissipate, and Estel whimpered as he leaned into the Elf lord's chest and clung to him tightly.

"Pwease don't go, _Ada_..."

The difference in his tone of voice and mannerism was startling, though Elrond smiled through a long sigh as he tightened his arms around the boy. "I will not leave you for long, _penneth_ ," he assured him. "I will return on the morrow."

Though this caused Estel to only tighten his hold on him. "Pwease... pwease come back, _Ada_..." he mumbled, and though he could not see them, the master of Imladris could hear the tears in his voice.

Before Elrond could respond, his brow furrowed as his gaze landed on the roaring fireplace when he remembered his foster son's earlier words yet again.

 _"_ Ada _..._ Ada _was fighting, and... and a twowl huwt him bad... His eyes wewen't opening..."_

 _A giant, dirtied hand pinned him to the thick trunk of one of the looming gnarled trees, crushing him..._

 _His lungs contracted, he could not breathe... Pain spread through his chest as his heart struggled to beat before it stopped..._

The Elf lord forced himself to take a deep breath, momentarily stunned that he had truly been struggling. "Of course I will return, _ion-nín_ ," he said in just above a whisper since he did not trust his voice to remain steady otherwise, leaning down and leaving a light kiss on the top of the small mortal's head. "I assure you I will not be away for long."

A moment passed before Estel raised his head and looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes were no longer filled with tears, though there was uncertainty in them as he scanned Elrond's fair features for reassurance. The lord of Rivendell gave him a kind smile as he nodded once, and a similar look slowly appeared on the five-year-old's face.

Though Elrond could not shake the feeling that the boy in his arms who still clung to him tightly did not believe his words.

Just as he was uncertain if he believed them.

 **Author's Note** : All right, that's it for this one! So, Thranduil and Elrond and co. are off to the Trollshaws, where Legolas and Elrohir are being held by Máfortion and co., and no one's in the greatest of shape. Some questions to keep in mind as we move ahead, some of which have already been asked by you guys but will be key to consider in upcoming chapters– Is Máfortion going to hold up to his end of the deal and let Legolas and Elrohir go once Thranduil arrives? Will Elrond and co. reach the Trollshaws in time to prevent a tragedy? What about Tidurian's motives, is he an ally or a traitor? And what does Aeglironion want that Máfortion has promised him if he agrees to help/what power does Máfortion have over him? And what about Estel's little vision? Will Elrond make it through, too? We'll find out! And, again, I'm so, so sorry about the wait for this chapter, I hope it won't be nearly so long next time. I hope this makes up for it! So, with that said, thanks for reading, and thank you again for your patience with me! See you guys next time!


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Oh, my goodness, guys, I'm so, so sorry for being gone for so long! Work's been absolutely killer. For the past couple of months, we've been transferring over to a completely different system (which will still be happening for I think another month or so), leaving us a lot busier than normal. That combined with I'm still recovering emotionally (which has gotten a bit better!), I've just had no energy to write. I've also been busy with some art projects I need to get done by late April. But I finally got this chapter done! To make up for my abnormally long absence, I've added a MAJOR clue into this update (or is it– the question is if you can trust what my bad guys say ;) Lol), so that's there for you to find. Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites, and follows, I truly appreciate them all! They really helped to motivate me when I didn't have much motivation. Also, I hope you had a Merry Christmas (if you celebrated) and a happy New Year! I wish the best to you all in 2017! With that said, I won't keep ya any longer, so I hope you enjoy! :)

In response to **CoffeeRanger** : Can I just start by saying how much I love the intensity of your first paragraph? Lol! I consider getting called awful right off the bat a good welcome back ;) Heheheh. Did you really? I'm assuming making you cry twice and have to stop reading to process it all a good thing in this case...? I never really know for sure how things I find sad are going to come across to others, so this is a really good way for me to gauge that, so thank you! Lol, well I'm glad that it is still the update you wanted! Thank you so much for saying so, that means a lot! Ah, Elrohir... Did you? I agree, I feel like Elrond would have rubbed off on them in that way as far as taking the suffering from someone else. It just tends to make for sad situations. I think it was too in the moment for him to think completely of Elladan, though I think in the back of his mind he realized that this would impact him, as well. Though by that point, it was too late. That's something that will likely be covered at some point soon-ish! Really? I don't think I've read any stories where they can turn off their link or block it or what not (though my amount of reading has been lacking for a while), but that's a super interesting concept. Because yeah, you raise a good point. What would be worse for Elladan– feeling everything that Elrohir is going through, or to suddenly have that cut off (which, you're right, he would FREAK out if that were the case)? (I'm assuming you think of these things because, like me, you're a writer, and you tend to think of the best ways to torture characters that would make for the best dramatic device? :D Or something to that effect, anyway, lol) Aww, yeah, I feel awful for Elladan, too, I really do! He's gonna be having it rough for a while, poor guy. Though your feeling bad seems super intense, which is good! I'm glad that my characterizations are coming across well enough where you are so invested in them. Ah, yeah, that scene with him and Elrond just kneeling together and trying to comfort each other but knowing it's not going to work... That scene (along with threatening Legolas' eye) is one that I've had in mind for quite some time, so I'm really glad that I finally got to unleash it. And that it was as powerful and effective as I hoped it would be! I know, I'm terrible, lol :P But I'm glad you love it! Yes, little Estel! He's been really fun to work with in this story in comparison to _Tainted_ since he's playing a bit of a different role this time around. But yes, poor, poor child! Yes! Lindir is going to prove to be very helpful in the sense of helping Estel to heal because, as you said, something as simple as giving him a friendly face to be there when needed does give him comfort. Oh yes, this part was killer to write... Estel is very perceptive, as we all know, and he did have this nightmare of Elrond getting killed by a troll that is still sticking with him... So both begging him not to go and then to come back was supposed to be sad and powerful, but also a sort of reminder of just what could be lost here. So I'm glad it worked, though I didn't mean to brutally rip your heart out! But, lol, yes onto more pleasant topics. Thank you, I am feeling somewhat better! Ugh, yes, emotional problems and stress are really tricky to deal with sometimes. It's something that's going to take quite a bit of time to move forward completely from, and the emotional struggle of just working through it all while trying to move forward has just been annoying. It's the aftermath of a bad situation, which still will cause anxiety every now and then. But I am feeling quite a bit better! I am, too, actually, lol. I can be incredibly stubborn when it comes to me. So sometimes I need other people to, as you so very aptly put it, talk some sense into me. And, like you, I'm glad he's been doing that– even though he's not a blood relation, he's the best older brother I could ever ask for (plus he's a professional wrestler for a living, so he's been pretty successful at figuratively kicking my butt into shape with this whole thing, lol :-P). But yes, I agree, taking time for myself has been so helpful. Thank you. The stress has lessened quite a bit from this whole thing, so that's a good thing; it's just all the sorting though everything that is still being a pain. I appreciate that. To you as well! :)

In response to **Someone** : Thank you so much for the kind review! As well as for your kind compliments, I truly appreciate them. Lol, I'm glad that the suspense/foreboding element is working in this story like I hope it is! :) Thanks for reading!

In response to **Someone** : It's all right, thank you so much for your kind words! I'm just glad that you love this story so much. It's definitely been a lot of fun to work on and to share with you guys!

* * *

Elvish:

 _mellon-nín_ – my friend  
 _goheno nin_ – forgive me  
 _ernil_ – prince  
 _daro_ – stop/halt  
 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _Ada_ – father  
 _ion-nín_ – my son

 _Chapter 13_

The light from the mouth of the tunnel he assumed they were being kept in had dimmed, so Legolas knew that it must have been nearly nightfall, although he had no way to tell for certain how long they had been there. The quiet chatter of Suiauthon and Eruantien, who were positioned just out of sight to keep watch over them, fell faintly on his ears, though he paid them no heed. Instead, his attention was focused solely on where Elrohir's head was carefully resting on his lap.

The younger son of Elrond had yet to regain consciousness after Máfortion's earlier actions, and the prince sighed quietly as he gazed down into his pale face. He then checked the strip of cloth from his tunic that he had earlier torn off and kept in place over the few lacerations left behind on his friend's abdomen over his ribs in order to try to staunch the blood flow, relieved to see that it had at least slowed a little. Though that was not his only concern.

Legolas winced when his thoughts returned to the dark bruising that marked the fair skin on the right side of Elrohir's ribcage he had seen when he had checked on his friend's injuries after their captors had departed, remembering how the raven-haired Elf had experienced difficulty with pain in that area on their way to the Trollshaws. He knew that whatever damage had already been done had only been exacerbated not only by the sharp wounds he had received, but by when Máfortion had driven the blunt end of the dagger he had used into his ribs to cause him more pain. They would be fortunate if only a couple had cracked or snapped under the pressure, as they would also be fortunate if the lacerations did not become infected. With no materials to work with, it was a possibility.

"You should not have suffered this for me, _mellon-nín_ ," he whispered, a chill passing through his lithe frame when he recalled how close their captor had come to robbing him of sight in one eye. "You should not have intervened... Not when this matter does not concern you..." He briefly closed his eyes as he grasped one of the other Elf's limp, chilled hands in his free one. " _Goheno nin_ , Elrohir..."

But then, Legolas slowly opened his eyes again when the quiet voices of two of their other captors caught his attention when both his father and Aeglironion's names were mentioned. He strained his ears and held his breath, attempting to grasp their words while noticing their tones were almost mocking.

"He is wavering... it is as though he is concerned for Thranduil's wretch..."

"Nay, it is Elrond's wretch who has caused him to falter... You saw how he responded to his screams as well as I..."

"He has seemed to waver from our work since we began... It took some... persuasion to get him to attempt to poison the king and the lord..."

"'Tis not a surprise... It is because of him we were discovered in Greenwood... Without his interference, we could have been successful already, and we would not be forced to hide in this forsaken place..."

"I do not understand why Máfortion keeps him at his side..."

"He needed someone who was trusted in Imladris..."

"Despite how his fealty is wearing thin?"

"He will not turn against us... Remember what Máfortion has promised him in return?"

There was a brief pause before both Suiauthon and Eruantien both laughed. "Ai, he is a fool... His desperation will be his undoing. When he discovers that we are unaware of–!"

Their words ended abruptly, casting the tunnel into silence. Legolas slowly let out the breath he had been holding when he realized they were not going to continue their conversation, his mind reeling from all he had just heard. It was not much, although it gave him more of an idea of just what had been happening since he and the Mirkwood king had arrived in Rivendell. He knew what Aeglironion had lost and was searching for, he understood– though still did not forgive– why the former cook had been aiding Máfortion in his plot, and yet he was left with his mind reeling, questioning everything he had once believed about the assassination attempt on Thranduil that had preceded the banishment of these soldiers from their former home of Greenwood, as well as the more recent one while they had been in Imladris.

Had Aeglironion possibly been correct all along? Had he truly been attempting to stop the first attempt on his father's life, not aiding in it, as he had always claimed?

Had he truly been innocent?

Had his father, the king he had always trusted implicitly, been mistaken?

Elrohir stirred slightly on his lap, a whispered pained sound breaking through his lips, and the prince glanced down at his older friend with concern. "I apologize, _mellon-nín_ ," he murmured, tightening his hand slightly around the younger twin's as he lightened the pressure a bit on his side. His concerned gaze passed over the crimson staining his own slender, calloused fingers as he sighed, knowing that they could not linger in this place for long without some sort of supplies. He would have to find some way out.

Then, the prince looked up when brighter light from further along the tunnel caught his eye. He watched as it drew nearer before having to close his eyes and look away when the full light from the torch engulfed the small space he and Elrohir were being kept in. Though he kept his tight hold on the dark-haired Elf, on high alert for any signs of imminent threat to either of their safety.

Though what he heard was not what he expected.

"How does he fare?" a quiet voice asked.

His mind attempting to process the words for any sort of deceit though not finding any, Legolas slowly turned back to the figure who had entered the tunnel, having to squint against the bright flames to attempt to see his face. "He would fare better if I were able to tend to him," he answered, though his words were stiff, guarded, mistrusting.

A moment passed before Aeglironion sighed as he lowered the torch a bit, attempting to look at the two captives better. "I may be able to bring you a few scarce materials when I return for my following watch," he said as he lowered himself to sit on the rocky ground, positioning the torch so it was carefully balanced against the wall beside him. "I am afraid I am unable to leave you now."

Legolas watched the former cook carefully as he attempted to find a more comfortable position for a long moment. "For what purpose would you aid us?" he asked, suspicion still clear in his tone.

Aeglironion's light gaze moved to the prince, and it slightly, though noticeably, faltered when it landed on the unconscious Elrohir. "It will not benefit us should one of you die," he answered shortly.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the three occupants of the tunnel. Aeglironion glanced around at the stifling darkness before turning his attention to the sword at his hip and absently tracing a fingertip over the gently curved, intricate hilt. Legolas carefully studied the younger twin's pale features, checking for any sign of distress, before looking back up at the traitorous Elf. The words he had heard spoken by Suiauthon and Eruantien echoed in his mind, and he took a deep breath before voicing the question he'd had for quite some time before he could lose his resolve, hoping he and Elrohir would not live to regret it.

"How did you lose your child?"

A beat passed with no response from the older Elf, and for a moment, Legolas dreaded that he had been terribly mistaken despite what he remembered hearing from their captors on their way to the Trollshaws and that this would instead incite rage from the former cook. But then, although his fair features remained impassive and he did not raise his gaze from his weapon, he caught the ever so slight movement of the muscles in Aeglironion's jaw as it clenched tightly.

"I am uncertain what you are speaking of, _ernil_." His voice remained level yet had a definite stiffness to it.

Slightly encouraged despite the dismissal, Legolas leaned forward a bit, his eyes focused and intense on their captor. "There is something you have lost, something you have been searching for," he pressed, recalling Estel's words about how the traitorous Elf had appeared to be sad while he had been his temporary captive since there was something he had been looking for. "Something that has brought sorrow and resentment upon your heart. Has Máfortion sworn to aid you in searching for your child should you aid in his plan against my father?"

At these words, Aeglironion's head quickly snapped up, astonishment he could not hide crossing his face. "How did you–!"

"For what other purpose would you have taken Estel?" the Mirkwood prince continued, not wanting to give the other Elf a chance to recover now that he had been able to break past his defenses. "For what other purpose would bringing Elrohir and I here serve if not to have our fathers suffer what you have–!"

" _Enough_!"

The sudden ferocity behind the single word shocked Legolas into silence, and he was simply able to watch as Aeglironion pushed himself swiftly and forcefully to his feet. The former cook took a few steps away from them toward the mouth of the tunnel before pausing, his hand lingering near the hilt of his weapon before he pulled his hand back and paced a little more, all the while keeping his back to the two captives. Though finally, he came to a stop once again, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths.

"That is enough, _ernil_." Though his tone was calmer now, there was still an underlying fierceness just beneath the surface of the words.

Legolas' light gaze faltered before he sighed, making sure his arm shielded Elrohir. "How did you lose your child?" he repeated quietly.

A long moment passed before Aeglironion slowly looked over his shoulder back at him. The prince noticed the anger that resided in his face, though there was something else there beneath that, as well as in his gaze. Desperation, perhaps? Hopelessness?

Then, a quiet whimper of pain escaped from the younger twin son of Elrond as his brow furrowed, and Legolas quickly turned his attention to his friend to attempt to provide him with any comfort that he could. Aeglironion's hard features softened.

"Your father banished Anessen, Suiauthon, Eruantien, and myself not long after we returned from the war of the Last Alliance," he murmured softly, thoughtfully. Legolas set his hand lightly on Elrohir's cold cheek before looking back up at the former cook, surprised. "I was simply relieved to have returned home after all of that time, for I could feel that my wife, who had been frail since our son was born shortly before I departed, had faded while I had been away. My son had been put into the care of a trusted palace healer until I could claim him, although before I had the chance to see him, I discovered Anessen, Suiauthon, and Eruantien's plan to assassinate your father." He paused, his gaze briefly saddening before hardening once again. "Although going to my son was most important, I could not allow them to succeed. Greenwood was already in a state of disarray with the death of her king and so many other lives lost, the murder of her prince would have torn her apart. I am certain you are aware of the story from there, _ernil_."

Legolas nodded once, his eyes faltering. "My father's decree took you from your child..."

"I am his only family," Aeglironion told him, meeting the prince's gaze. "And I was not even able to see him before we were forced from our home."

Legolas held his gaze, though he found it was more difficult than he had expected. Unless the other Elf's words were an attempt to deceive him, he suddenly found it a bit easier to believe his protested innocence. Why would Aeglironion risk abandoning his only child in order to aid the effort to claim Thranduil's life?

"And Máfortion... vowed to aid you to find your son?"

Aeglironion slowly turned around to completely face the two captives. "Aye," he admitted. "We came upon him on the road while we still had not decided on where to settle." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I remembered him more clearly than my men. I remembered well when he had attempted to assassinate your grandfather, as well as his banishment. Yet when he offered to bring us to the small settlement he had discovered near the Misty Mountains, as he had also remembered us from our service in Greenwood's forces, we agreed to follow him.

"That night, I admit we had rather enjoyed the food and wine he provided us with, and he took me aside, telling me he could see the bitterness and the despair I carried with me. I regret telling him the events I told you about. If I had known where those words would have led me, I never would have uttered them. He told me he had eyes and ears that remained in Greenwood, that he could have them track my son, that ultimately, he could lead me to him. I merely had to aid him in this plot he had been formulating in return. It would take time, he had repeatedly said in the face of my impatience, though if I kept true to my word, I would see my son again. In the mindset I was in, I believed it to be my salvation."

Legolas took a moment to absorb all of this information. If his story was indeed true, he found he could begin to understand Aeglironion's motivations for aiding in Máfortion's attempts against his father's life. It was a similar motivation to Thranduil's now, even though he continued to desperately hope his father would not come for him after the images he had seen in his dream. Although he knew he still could not forgive the former cook's actions, no matter the reason behind them.

"You say you remember when Máfortion attempted to assassinate my grandfather," the prince murmured. "Are you aware of why he made such an attempt? Of why he waited all this time to make the same attempt on my father? Or why Elrohir and I are here now?"

Aeglironion briefly shook his head once. "I am afraid I am not aware of his motivations," he replied. "That was something he did not share with us, and while we were all in Greenwood, only your grandfather seemed to be aware of them. I am uncertain if your father even knows, although I do not believe it to be likely. Oropher remained private about this matter."

A long moment of silence passed where neither Elf spoke a word. Aeglironion sighed before he slowly walked back over to where he had set the torch when it began to flicker, but he paused before he could once again sit when the Mirkwood prince again spoke up.

"I am uncertain if Máfortion is truly aware of where your son is..." he told him quietly and somewhat reluctantly, noticing when the former cook's lithe body stiffened. "I overheard a couple of your guards speaking to each other. It appears as though they simply required your assistance and have no intention of aiding you to find him..."

Aeglironion simply gazed down at the dancing flames, his fair features remaining impassive. However, his slender fingers lightly curled into fists. "I would advise you to use caution with your words and to speak only of what matters concern you, _ernil_." Though his tone remained level, there seemed to be traces of a warning along with it.

Legolas sighed, realizing the other Elf's defenses were once again raised. He would get no further, although he knew that what he had been able to learn had been much more than he had anticipated, and it gave him more of an idea of the dangerous situation they all now found themselves in. There were still many unanswered questions, and he knew that they would have to proceed with caution.

But then, the prince was brought out of his thoughts when Elrohir stirred in his arms, and he quickly looked down in time to see the younger twin's gray eyes flutter open. His disoriented gaze moved around them before he cringed with pain as his hand moved toward his ribs.

"Easy, _mellon-nín_ ," Legolas cautioned, reaching out to gently stop him. "Do not attempt to move yet..."

Aeglironion glanced over, watching as Elrohir let out a shaking breath as he nodded in agreement, weakly resting back against his friend. He sighed, checking in the direction of the mouth of the tunnel before turning back to Legolas. "I will return shortly with something that may aid him," he said, picking up the torch before making his way away from the two captives.

Stunned, the prince quickly looked up, though the former cook was already gone before he could say a word, the space they were being kept in steadily falling back into darkness as the light from the flames slowly faded away.

* * *

The forest continued to darken around them while the sky continued to deepen as Elrond and Glorfindel led the small party through the forest with all haste. Erestor, Elladan, and Tidurian followed closely, the few soldiers they had brought along from the Balrog Slayer's patrol not far behind. They were not certain how long they had been riding through the trees, though a couple of hours had at least passed, as the last traces of crimson in the heavens were now fading to black.

Elrond glanced over his shoulder to check on those who rode with him. He could have brought a few more guards along in effort to detain Máfortion, Aeglironion, and those who had aided them in their plot, he thought to himself as his gray gaze passed over their small party. Though their purpose now was speed, he reasoned. He was still uncertain of what fates could befall Elrohir and Legolas once their use of luring Thranduil to the Trollshaws was spent, though he was certain none would end well for them, and he could not deny the concern he felt that the Mirkwood king had left without a word when he was still so physically weak from the poison that had recently ravaged his body. He understood his friend's desire to save his son, for it was one he shared in, though the action itself had been far from wise. Especially since Máfortion's deep resentment of Oropher had led him to become desperate for Thranduil's head.

His gaze faltered as it passed over both Elladan and Erestor, seeing in both of their faces that they appeared withdrawn, weary, emotionless. The Elf lord knew that his own worry for Elrohir, no matter how immense, could not compare to that of his oldest son's. Elladan's bond with his twin was something that was at times unexplainable, though it was also something that had always been there and had always been strong. They were aware of it even when they were infants, for they had never been able to be apart from each other. And as they grew, they continued to understand the connection that existed between them, as well as how to work with it, and it had developed into what bound them now.

His heart ached as he thought back to when he and Elladan had been kneeling in each other's arms, able to feel the pain and torment being suffered by Elrohir and knowing there was no comfort he could give to either of his sons. The bond they shared was one that he understood and remembered all too well.

And Erestor...

Elrond inwardly sighed at the thought of the added weight that now burdened down his chief advisor. It had been so long since he had seen the irritable Elf carry his twin daggers, so long since he had been needed to face the horrors that only war and destruction can bring. For him to set aside the parchment, ink, and quills he loved and found solace in and instead to once again choose to wield the beautiful, deadly weapons he had attempted to keep hidden away deep in his past was one thing he never would have asked of Erestor. He had even hesitated to accept his service when he had offered it, for he was one of the few who knew how much distress and anxiety these memories gave the slender advisor.

Yet he was relieved to have one of his most trusted friends at his side, for he knew how much Erestor cared for those they were now searching for. And he also was aware that the stern Elf would likely not allow Glorfindel out of his sight in his condition, anyway.

At this thought, the master of Imladris turned his attention to the golden-haired warrior who rode beside him, and his brow furrowed when he saw how ashen his features still remained. Glorfindel was one of the strongest people he knew, so it still unsettled him to see his friend not at his full strength. He had done all he could with his healing touch and materials he had available to sustain the Balrog Slayer, and he was pleased to see that he was healing well, although it may have been too soon for him to be exerting as much strength as he was in order to find Elrohir and Legolas, as well as to detain those who had taken them.

Though Glorfindel had lightly passed off his concerns before they left, as was his wont. He had claimed that what was most important was aiding Elrohir, Legolas, and Thranduil, and he had assured him that he had enough strength for that task. There was nothing to worry about.

"We do not have much light left."

The voice, though quiet compared to the sounds of their horses, startled Elrond out of his thoughts as his gaze moved to Glorfindel's own light one. "We have a few more hours until we reach the borders of the Trollshaws," the golden-haired warrior continued when he saw he had earned his friend's attention. "I must admit I am somewhat ill at ease with arriving there in darkness."

The dark-haired Elf lord took a deep breath as his eyes traveled up to the steadily blackening sky, able to see the first traces of stars through breaks in the clouds. He had to admit arriving at the Trollshaws in the night did not settle well with him either, for much like the Balrog Slayer, he was left feeling uncomfortable. Máfortion and those who were aiding him were likely much more comfortable with the terrain, and he also knew there was a bit more of a risk, despite how rare the chance was, to run into something else that was even more dangerous.

 _"_ Ada _..._ Ada _was fighting, and... and a twowl huwt him bad..."_

 _His lungs contracted, his heart struggled to beat, his vision darkened..._

" _Mellon-nín_?"

Elrond briefly shook his head, blinking rapidly a few times to clear his vision completely. He glanced over at Glorfindel, seeing that his friend was regarding him with concern. "I am all right," he murmured, steering his horse around a sharp corner on the path and waiting for the other Elf to catch up before continuing. "Though I feel as though we must keep moving should we wish to reach to the others in time. Elrohir and Legolas' lives may depend on how quickly we arrive, and Thranduil..." He let out a long breath. "Thranduil will require our aid."

Glorfindel nodded once in agreement, knowing they did not have any other option, before he hesitantly sighed. "When... when will you share with me what you have seen?" For all the years that he had known his younger companion, he had always been one of the few Elrond entrusted his visions with, no matter what they showed. He clearly remembered the fear that had struck him when he had watched the Elf lord collapse in his study after seeing something that had told him Legolas and Elrohir had been taken to the Trollshaws, though he was uncertain what those flickers could have possibly been to cause such a response from his friend.

For a long moment, it appeared as though Elrond had not even heard his nearly silent question. But then, the master of Imladris' gaze faltered before it fell, and the golden-haired warrior felt his stomach drop. He brought his steed a bit closer. "Elrond–!"

But then, the white horse made a quiet, panicked sound before drawing away again. Elrond quickly looked over in time to see Glorfindel was slumping forward against the animal, his face paler than it had been before as his breath shortened to quicker gasps.

" _Daro_ ," the Elf lord commanded, bringing his own horse to a stop while the rest of the small party did the same as all eyes turned to the Balrog Slayer. His horse still appeared unsettled, unable to come to a complete halt.

Before he could move, however, Erestor leapt from his own horse and hurried over to Glorfindel, Elladan close behind him. Tidurian and the few guards with him watched with concern. The chief advisor reached out a hand and lightly ran it down the horse's long nose in effort to calm him, smiling slightly when he saw the action had the desired effect, before he set his other on the golden-haired warrior's leg to make sure he wouldn't fall.

Despite himself, Glorfindel chuckled. "You fret too often, _mellon-nín_..."

Erestor rolled his dark eyes, but a hint of a smirk turned up the corner of his lips. "You are so foolish," he lightly chided. But then, the slightly cheerful look vanished from his irritable features. "You should not have journeyed with us, I fear it may be too soon..."

Sighing, Glorfindel straightened up on his horse a bit before reaching down and placing a hand on Erestor's shoulder. A small smile appeared on his face when the chief advisor met his gaze. "It shall pass," he told him. "A momentary weakness, nothing more." His smile broadened when he heard the other Elf grumble under his breath about his stubbornness.

But then, both he and Erestor looked up when Elrond slid off his horse and came toward them. "I shall determine that," he said, casting his gaze up to the Balrog Slayer. "Come, we shall take brief rest."

Glorfindel opened his mouth to protest, but the lord of Rivendell held up a hand. "I am aware our time runs short," he continued, pausing briefly when he heard the near silent, sharp intake of breath from Elladan. "I assure you, this rest shall be brief."

The Balrog Slayer looked back at the members of his patrol and Tidurian who were watching him warily, to the restless Elladan, to Elrond's arched eyebrow that challenged him to defy him, and finally to Erestor, who was looking at him with his usual annoyance but whose eyes were silently imploring him to listen to their friend. The feeling of unease he had experienced before as he had watched the chief advisor equip himself with his daggers as they were preparing to leave began to rise up within him again, but he forced it down as he gave a sigh of defeat and a conceding nod.

"Ensure it is brief then, _mellon-nín_."

* * *

An almost ethereal quiet seemed to fall over the earth as night descended, the only sounds being those of their horses and the soft wind around them.

Thranduil cast his gaze upward to the dark sky that stretched on infinitely above them, a sense of calm filling him when he saw the stars, mere pricks of light against the blackness, through a few clearings in the clouds. They had always been able to bring solace to his troubled mind, and as he briefly closed his eyes, he could almost forget that it was Anessen who was leading him to a destination he likely would not return from.

Though not completely.

Letting out a long, weary breath, the Woodland king reluctantly opened his eyes as he continued to steer his horse toward the Trollshaws, knowing that they had to be close by now. Though before he could focus too much on the dread of journeying to such a place, his brow smoothed again when his gaze landed on the nearly full moon that was making its way out from behind a large, fluffy cloud. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he fondly remembered the same moon casting its rays down on Mirkwood on the night Legolas had been born, how he had held his little Greenleaf for the first time in its soft light.

It seemed fitting to him that now he may be holding his son for the last time in that same gentle light. It gave him a sense of peace he had not anticipated.

However, that tranquility was shattered by the sneering voice ahead of him. "We have arrived, _hir-nín_ ," Anessen announced, glancing back at him over his shoulder.

His heart quickening, Thranduil lowered his gaze in time to see the line of dark trees ahead of them, able to make out their gnarled branches in the moonlight as they drew nearer. They appeared calm and quiet, though there was no denying the unsettling feeling that they left him with.

Anessen smirked as he brought his own horse to a stop, the king doing the same as they approached the borders of the Trollshaws. He then dismounted his steed, unable to hide the slight wince as his stiff muscles protested the movement after having been on a horse for so long, and turned to his companion. His smirk broadened when he saw the questioning look on the Mirkwood monarch's face.

"Oh, Thranduil, we will be completing our journey on foot."

Though it was something he had not considered, Thranduil also wasn't overly surprised, as the trees were dense and the horses themselves appeared to be uneasy about entering the forest. He carefully lowered himself from his own steed, also wincing when his sore, stiff muscles protested to the long hours of traveling, before ensuring that his sword was still secured hidden beneath his cloak. He then tied his horse's reins to the same tree as Anessen was securing his to, a place where a couple other horses were already gathered, before he ran a calming hand down his long nose when he made an anxious sound. The king closed his eyes and carefully rested his head against his strong neck, running his ringed fingers through his mane. A small smile appeared in his fair features when he felt his horse calm beneath his touch.

"After you, _hir-nín_."

Thranduil's smile vanished as his jaw clenched tightly at the mocking sound of Anessen's voice, and he opened his eyes to see the same taunting look on his face as he regarded him with a sense of deep satisfaction. Taking a deep breath, the king set his shoulders, ensured his crown was straight, and held his head high in defiance as he took a few steps toward the trees.

 _"_ Ada _..."_

The Mirkwood monarch paused with a quiet grasp, just as he was about to step foot into the shadows. He thought back to when he had believed he had heard Legolas' voice call out to him when he had been on his way to meet with Anessen and leave Rivendell, pleading with him, warning him, not to come and find him. His light eyes widened slightly as he gazed at the forest ahead of him, the gnarled branches and the twisted forms of the trees forming dark, threatening shapes in the scarce traces of moonlight for as far as he could see.

All he could think was that his son was in there somewhere.

Not just Legolas, he knew... but also Máfortion.

He imagined the dark-haired Elf's eyes, one piercingly green and the other clouded over, and involuntarily shuddered.

A hand shoving him roughly in the back brought him out of his thoughts, and Thranduil narrowed his eyes as he glared back at Anessen, who he saw was looking back at him with amusement. His former guard gestured at the trees before them with some impatience, and once again straightening his shoulders, the king stepped into the Trollshaws.

 _Goheno nin,_ _ion-nín..._

 **Author's Note** : So that's that! We're learning a bit more about Aeglironion here, Glorfindel isn't doing fantastic, Elrond's realizing just what could be lost here, and Thranduil has arrived at his destination. Things aren't looking good, but I'm curious to see how you guys feel things are going to turn out from here. And once again, I'm so, so sorry for falling off the face of FanFiction for so long– hopefully, that won't be the case this time. Thank you all for sticking with me and being so patient with me, you guys are the best! Thanks for reading! See you guys next time!


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Oh, my goodness, guys, I'm so, so sorry about how long this took! Work's been super stressful with all the changes we've been going through, leaving me with not much energy in which to write. And I've also had to devote most of my free time to finishing up some art pieces for an event I had this past weekend (plus I was a bridesmaid in a wedding the day after), so spare time for writing came few and far between. But now that I'll have more if it, I'm hoping that the next chapters will be able to come a bit more regularly. So, to hopefully make up for me, again, falling off the face of Fanfiction for much longer than I had intended, I filled this (nice long) chapter with clues and revelations, as well as the first confrontation we've all been waiting for (but, there's also more violence in this chapter, so just be prepared for that. Don't say I didn't warn ya, lol). So, I hope that it at least partly makes up for how long I've been gone! Thank you guys so, so much for your reviews, favorites, and follows, they mean the world to me and made me truly smile during those stressful work times! I hope you're all well, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

In response to **CoffeeRanger** : Yay, I'm glad this chapter was worth the wait! Even though I sincerely apologize for the long wait =/ But the butterflies in the stomach feeling is a good thing in this case, I think. At least in terms of anticipation and nerves for what's going to happen to these characters now (things are certainly building, that's for sure!). I'm actually excited to see that you had caught the whole Aeglironion had lost a child thing– that's one of the cruxes of these two stories! I'm intrigued that you're feeling bad for him, though it's certainly a possibility (that's the question that's gotta be kept in mind ;) Hehe)! Lol, yes, Legolas is a stubborn, idiotic boy, but can't blame him for trying to get to the bottom of everything that's going on. Though yeah, Aeglironion was very close to hitting him, it's a very touchy subject. He really doesn't care as much about Legolas as he does Elrohir, no– I'm glad it's understandable since it's definitely partly your point about what Thranduil did, but the other part is that he watched Elrohir grow up. He knows him very well, so seeing him like this would affect him. Yeah, unconsciousness is probably best for Elrohir at the moment, as yes, that is a pretty dire concern! Poor Glorfindel indeed (Elf, man... either way, lol :P)! He should have stayed home, but there's no way he's gonna let these guys get away with any of this. He's not used to these bouts of weakness or things like this happening on his watch. They could be very problematic in this sort of adventure... difficulty... altercation... thing ;) (I'm a sucker for Glorfindel and Erestor friendship, I really am. He had to be the first one there. I can't, either! There will be more, I guarantee you that!) Yup, Thranduil... the self-sacrificing idiot (since you've successfully called both him and Legolas an idiot in this review, I suspect this must be a family trait. Which I find hysterical, by the way). Nope! You're calling this pretty well, actually– nope, it's not gonna go well for anyone, and your prediction of everyone getting hurt may not be too far off... And no, Máfortion is definitely not going to make this easy at all. Dreading what he's going to do to make Thranduil pay is likely the smarter choice of words there... (Lol, I can totally imagine, mine's kicking into overdrive with the possibilities, too, in all honesty :P) I did like the intensity of that note, I really did! I believe you that you cried twice! Lol, I can only imagine the looks you were getting from your brother (this is something I can completely relate to, lol xD). Thank you, things are starting to clear up (anxiety is such a pain). Thanks for that! It will, I just know it's gonna take more time than I'd like it to. Which is also a pain. But it's all part of the, like, healing and bouncing back process, so I get it. Yeah it is! He's definitely not someone I expected to be friends/have a sibling relationship with (I'm actually friends with quite a few of the people in the company he primarily works for; whenever I say in my notes that I have art pieces I have to get done, it's for this group of crazy guys, lol. None of which I ever expected, but it's been an amazingly fun ride so far, and it's honestly the most fun I've ever had, lol. They're kinda like a second crazy, misfit family of sorts for me, but a loving one nonetheless), but I'm glad that it happened! He was a big part of what got me through what caused this emotional stress to begin with, and he's continued to be a big part of the moving forward/recovering process. So I'm glad for him metaphorically kicking my butt into shape with this whole thing, lol. Though I have to say, being friends with these guys isn't easy at times because I'm always, like, concerned about them getting hurt and what have you :P Lol. But they've gotten used to my mother hen-ing xD Thank you, my Christmas and my New Year did go well! I hope that yours did (as well as your Easter!), as well! Blessings!

In response to **Someone** : Aww, thank you! :) It's slow going, but yeah, I'm doing a bit better! Lol, I'm sorry about the long wait! I don't know if you were, either, you probably were, I just wanted to make sure everyone got covered! And I appreciate you saying that you agree with the words wholeheartedly! I'm so happy that you love this fic so much that you go back and reread it! :D (Lol, I have to admit, I don't think the suspense is gonna be going away anytime soon :P Haha! Oh, yes, lots of evilness ahead! Glad to hear it ;) Lol) Thank you so much! I wish the best for you, also!

In response to **LaurielS** : My apologies for how long this took! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

* * *

Elvish:

 _ernil_ – prince  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _mellon-nín_ – my friend  
 _daro_ – stop/halt  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _muindor_ – brother  
 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _aran-nín_ – my king  
 _goheno nin_ – forgive me  
 _Ada_ – father  
 _tolo_ – come

 _Chapter 14_

Legolas gave one last hesitant look to their fair-haired captor before slowly taking the thin, nearly empty roll of bandages he was being offered and turning his attention to Elrohir, whose lithe frame was trembling slightly as he struggled to sit up leaning against his shoulder for support. The younger twin gave him a wan smile as he lifted his tunic a bit in order for the prince to wrap the cloth around the bruises and gashes that marked his abdomen, wincing when slight pressure was applied over his ribs. Aeglironion's gaze faltered ever so slightly when he saw Elrohir's countenance pale even more in pain as he was tended to.

"I apologize I could not bring you something more sufficient at this time, _ernil_ ," the former cook murmured. "My absence here would have been noticed if I had been gone too long. Though I must also admit our supplies are scarce from spending nearly all our time here, as we did not bring much from Imladris with us."

"I understand," Legolas replied, pausing and giving Elrohir an apologetic look when he heard the younger twin inadvertently hiss as his body tensed. He then spared the older Elf a sidelong glance. "I have experienced my share of times where I have cared for my soldiers when supplies for my patrol have been scarce. What you have brought me will suffice in keeping his injury immobile to prevent further damage in that regard, although my concern for risk of infection remains."

Aeglironion nodded once. "I am not nearly as skilled as Lord Elrond, nor would I be foolish enough to make such a claim, though we may have a few herbs remaining that would aid him."

Elrohir clenched his jaw as Legolas securely tied off the bandages around his torso, giving his friend a grateful smile before leaning his head against his shoulder again as he gave a weak sigh and closed his eyes. "I will be all right," he assured them in nearly a whisper, his voice unsteady. "The aid you have given me is appreciated, _hannon le_."

"He will need attention from skilled hands, also," Legolas said, keeping his gaze lowered as he handed what remained of the bandages back to Aeglironion. "He will need to be brought to Imladris." He did not receive an answer from the former cook, though he did not expect one. There was no answer he could give.

Silence hung heavily in the tunnel for a long moment. Legolas sighed himself, ensuring that the younger twin was comfortable and well supported against him. Aeglironion's light gaze lingered on the flickering torch situated on the hard ground before him before he glanced at the prince curiously.

"You are a captain in your father's forces, then?"

Legolas' brow furrowed as he glanced back at their captor. "Aye," he confirmed. His gaze hardened. "It is my duty to protect my king."

Aeglironion recognized the implication in his voice, and he lowered his gaze. "Your father should be proud. As I have told him, you have the truest aim I have ever seen."

The prince's features smoothed out when he watched the former cook wince slightly as he moved his wounded shoulder, a ghost of a smirk appearing at the corner of his lips when he remembered how his arrow had found its mark when he had prevented Aeglironion from escaping with Estel. Though at the thought of Thranduil, a sense of dread he could not deny struck his heart. He was close, he could feel him...

"It is my hope I have his favor in my skill," Legolas admitted quietly, glancing down at Elrohir when he felt his breathing lighten. "I am sometimes uncertain, as I have made errors in my judgement... 'Tis why I am here now, and 'tis why his life is now threatened..."

Aeglironion felt a small smile appear on his face despite himself. "He is much as his father was before him in that manner," he told him. "Oropher did not often lend a compliment openly, though he would when it was deserved. Your father often wondered the same, _ernil_." When he saw the younger Elf looking over at him curiously, the look broadened. "Although he was not overly expressive, we knew our fealty was valued by him. I assure you, _ernil_ , much as your father's skill and service was something Oropher was proud of, your skill and your service has your king's favor. I saw it for myself not long ago."

Legolas continued to gaze at the former cook before finally looking away, closing his eyes tightly as guilt ravaged him from the inside out. _But it is not enough to protect him now..._

The older Elf's light eyes narrowed slightly when he saw the turmoil affecting his young captive. "I cannot imagine the hardships you now face in defending the Woodland's borders," he murmured, his tone almost wistful. "When I protected her trees, the threat was normally no greater than some Dwarves we desired to evade, as well as some other problems from time to time."

A moment passed before the prince looked back at the former cook, and he could not stop a quiet chuckle. "Aye, the Shadow has been oppressive," he agreed. "Though my father has thus far been able to stay it with his hand and our strength of arms."

"I would presume you are an important part of that effort as well, _ernil_."

Legolas gave him a small smile. "I attempt to be," he confirmed. "Though I believe it to be my father's spirit and his lifeblood that sustains us and our land."

A gleam of longing appeared in Aeglironion's eyes as he watched the flickering flames of the torch. "I must admit I miss the beauty and vitality of Greenwood," he said quietly, his mind elsewhere in a time and place nearly forgotten. "The sound of the wind through her trees, the pure color of her leaves, the clear water of her rivers... Your grandfather sustained her much as your father now sustains your home, I remember well when his lifeblood flowed through the Woodlands. He was a ruler loved though feared by many."

"I... I wish I had more memories of her," the prince whispered. "I can hardly recall..." He paused, shaking his head briefly to clear a thin line of tears that he had hardly realized had formed. "It is almost as though it were all simply a dream, and my knowledge of her is primarily from what my father and Aearion have told me. The Shadow has lingered over us for so long..."

Aeglironion's sharp features softened to something resembling sympathy, though he said nothing.

Legolas took a deep breath, regaining himself as he met the former cook's gaze. "My father's very life is tethered to the spirit of MIrkwood," he continued. "Should Máfortion succeed..." He allowed his words to trail off, for he knew they both fully understood their implication. "Is there no way we may prevent what he feels he must do now?"

 _Is there a way to save my father? Would you allow me to do so?_

Aeglironion heard the silent questions the prince desired to ask but did not voice, and he sighed as he lowered his gaze and contemplated how to answer. His young captive appeared so uncertain, afraid even, in the faint light the torch provided in the heavy darkness.

"Your father was to be given a choice of which life he desired most, yours or his own," he finally told him, his voice hardly above a whisper. "That was how Máfortion planned to draw him here to achieve what he has long been dwelling upon, to use the love he has for you against him." He paused, attempting to give him a small smile though couldn't quite manage it. "I believe we are both well aware of what his decision would be, _ernil_. I would presume he will arrive soon."

Legolas stared back at his captor for a long moment, his heart filled with dread. He had long suspected that this was the reason for his capture, to be used as leverage to coerce Thranduil into doing what Máfortion desired, though hearing it confirmed aloud was something he had not been entirely prepared for. His lithe frame trembled slightly at the thought that he was to be used as the instrument in his father's death, though then he clenched his fist to still the shaking in his fingers. He could not allow it. His obligation above all else was to protect his king, and as his son, he knew he could not simply allow Thranduil to die, not without a fight. Though he knew the Mirkwood monarch's actions were in effort to spare his life, he could not allow him to face Máfortion alone to simply lay down his life at his feet for him. He would do what he must to escape from their tunnel prison and ensure he would not.

Though before he could voice any of these thoughts aloud, he quickly turned his attention to Elrohir as Aeglironion did when the younger twin began to stir. "El... Elladan... Elladan..."

"It is all right, _mellon-nín_ ," the prince attempted to soothe the raven-haired Elf, running a comforting hand lightly over his back. He gave him a small smile when Elrohir's weary gray eyes fluttered open and found his face, concerned to see his gaze seemed faraway. "You are not alone."

"... Elladan..."

Aeglironion's brow furrowed with concern at Elrohir's condition, and he sighed. "Mayhap I shall bring some more supplies when–!"

"What supplies are you speaking of?"

Legolas quickly snapped his head up at the sudden cold voice as the former cook turned to look over his shoulder, and dread coursed through him when he felt rather than saw the presence of the new arrival closer to the entrance of the tunnel. How long had he been there? How much had he overheard? He had been so absorbed in his conversation with Aeglironion and his concern for Elrohir that he had not noticed him approach...

A moment passed before whoever had spoken took a few more steps forward and entered the dancing light from the torch, the dark-haired Elf's one green eye gleaming. Behind him stood their two other fair-haired captors.

"What supplies are you speaking of, Aeglironion?" Máfortion repeated with a hint of impatience, though his face was unreadable.

The former cook could not form a suitable response, so he simply averted his gaze. Legolas felt his heart racing almost painfully as he made sure to shield Elrohir, who in turn was keeping a tight hold on the prince in a protective way, and he let out a defeated breath when their primary captor's gaze landed on the bandages still in Aeglironion's hand.

There was a tense moment of harsh silence where Máfortion's pale features remained impassive. Then, in a moment so quick it was hardly seen, he snatched the roll out of the former cook's grasp. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, brandishing it in the fair-haired Elf's face. "Are you aiding them against my command?!"

Aeglironion simply continued to stare straight ahead, not looking back at the other Elf and not speaking a word.

Máfortion's eyes narrowed dangerously, making a movement as though he meant to strike him before pausing. He glanced down at the bandages before casting his gaze to their two captives behind him. "Or mayhap," he murmured, taking a step closer to them around the torch, "you are thieves."

Legolas chanced a glance at Aeglironion, who still did say a word, before steadily meeting Máfortion's gaze. "I requested them," he said, feeling Elrohir's breath catch from beside him. "I believed that it would not do you well should one of us–!"

Though the prince's words were abruptly cut off when the back of the raven-haired Elf's hand connected solidly with his cheek, causing him to lean against Elrohir, who struggled to support him. "Silence!" he snapped, his features contorted in fury. Máfortion then turned to Aeglironion, who seemed to crumple beneath his heated gaze. "Even if Thranduil's wretch speaks the truth, you are not to bend to their demand. Remember who it is you follow, Aeglironion, and who provided for you when you were in need. And remember what it is you will be granted should you continue to do as I say."

The former cook flinched at his words, though he remained silent.

Legolas slowly raised his gaze to Aeglironion, dread gripping his heart. Though he still did not trust him after the actions he had taken against his father and Elrond, he had foolishly believed that he could have been somewhat of a lifeline for them while in captivity. Not only had he provided them with some scarce materials to help Elrohir, but he seemed to be willing to bring more, even though now, it seemed it would not be possible as they had been discovered. They may have been able to find some common ground when it came to how they felt about the Woodland kingdom, though it was not enough for Aeglironion to find the courage to face their primary captor.

They truly were alone.

A small smirk appeared on Máfortion's face as he glanced down at the roll of bandages he held again before carelessly discarding it to the dirty tunnel floor. "Now that that problem has been seen to, I may tell you why I truly have come to see you, _ernil_ ," he said, a sneer in his tone as the look broadened when he saw the despondent look on Legolas' face. "Your father should be near to us now, should his weakness have determined his decision to give his life in place of yours. There is a different feel to the air and in the trees now... Do you feel it also?"

The prince's heart nearly stopped as his breath caught in his chest. Deep in his own spirit, he had been feeling Thranduil drawing nearer with a sense of foreboding. To hear the same from the one who desired the king's life in his hands to the point of obsession caused a cold dread to overtake his whole being.

 _Thranduil's right eye bore into him, filled with determination, acceptance, and apology..._

 _The long, gleaming blade of a dagger was placed against his father's throat as Máfortion's hand forced his head forward..._

 _The last golden leaf clinging to the king's crown broke off and drifted into the shadows..._

 _His own agonized and rage-filled scream echoed around him as a light and warmth as familiar to him as his own flickered and died..._

Legolas was roughly brought out of his thoughts when the raven-haired Elf approached, forcing Elrohir away from him by driving his boot into his abdomen and causing him to scream in pain. The prince reached out for him but was prevented from getting to the younger twin by Máfortion's slender fingers getting tangled in his hair and yanking his head back. He hissed in surprise, but otherwise did not acknowledge the pain that racked his skull.

"Do not fret, _ernil_ ," their captor whispered. "You will see your father again before his life is mine."

Legolas winced as the older Elf's hold on his hair tightened, setting his right hand on the dusty ground beside him in effort to steady himself. His heart leapt when his fingertips brushed against something hard, and he immediately grasped it to feel that it was a decent-sized, somewhat pointed rock.

Máfortion grinned as he leaned close to his ear. "I ensure it."

Thinking quickly, Legolas braced himself as he waited for their captor's hand to start to disentangle from his hair before he threw his arm out, watching as the makeshift weapon he had discovered sliced through the arm of the raven-haired Elf's tunic.

Though before he could allow the hint of a satisfied smile to appear on his face, his eyes widened when Máfortion's other hand gripped his wrist tightly, forcing the rock from his grasp. Their other two fair-haired captors moved a little closer, pausing when their leader shook his head as he glared down at the prince. But then, a smirk replaced the irritation, causing dread to flood through Legolas.

"I have been told your aim with a bow is the truest many have seen," he murmured thoughtfully. "I must admit that is an impressive feat, _ernil_." A gleam appeared in his green eye. "It would be unfortunate should something affect that."

Dread gripped Legolas' heart, though he barely had a chance to attempt to break away before he was pulled roughly forward, finding his hand on the ground beneath Máfortion's heavy boot. The latter's smirk broadened, and the prince's agonized scream echoed through the tunnel as the bones in his fingers and wrist snapped under the weight of the pressure that was applied.

He yanked his arm back the moment Máfortion lifted his foot away, cradling his shattered hand close to his chest as he recoiled and fought against the tears that threatened to make themselves known. The pain was intense, though the urge to weep was more out of fear. He had no idea how long he and Elrohir would be kept in this dark tunnel in the Trollshaws, and he dreaded to think what would happen if he could not receive some sort of attention for his damaged hand in time. What if he never regained full mobility and function? What use in the battle to defend his homeland would he be then? What use would he be in the protection of his father?

And deep down, beneath how his mind was screaming in agony and frustration, he knew Máfortion was fully aware of what he could have possibly just taken from him.

Their dark-haired captor chuckled as he turned his gaze to Suiauthon, Eruantien, and Aeglironion while Elrohir slowly moved to check on Legolas. "I presume it shall not be long now until Thranduil arrives," he announced. "Let us prepare to receive him, shall we?"

" _Daro_."

Máfortion arched an eyebrow in bemusement as he turned to look over his shoulder to see Legolas grasping the hem of his tunic in his left hand, his broken right one resting limply on his lap. "Even now you stand against me?" he asked, his smirk returning. "I admire your devotion to your king, but you will be unable to save your father now, _penneth_."

The prince's eyes narrowed. "It is my sworn duty to protect–!"

His words abruptly stopped when he saw the faint gleam of the dagger in Máfortion's hand too late. Before his mind could process what he was seeing in order to move out of harm's way, Legolas gasped as the sharp point of the blade sliced across his face.

Aeglironion's breath caught in his chest as he watched the younger Elf's body turn away from them as he crumpled to the ground, covering his pale features with his uninjured hand. The sight was much too similar, eerily similar, to one he had seen years ago in the halls of the palace of Greenwood, when Thranduil had pursued Máfortion after his attempted assassination on Oropher...

 _Rage burned in the prince's light gaze as he knocked the sword from Máfortion's hand before lunging his own weapon forward, only able to watch as his blade sliced across the guard's face..._

 _Máfortion screamed in agony as he knelt on the hard ground, his hands pressed over his eye..._

A pained sound from Legolas brought the former cook out of his thoughts, and his brow furrowed in concern as he watched the thin trail of crimson drip from between the prince's fingers as he continued to press his hand to his face. Elrohir knelt above him, attempting to carefully move his friend's arm so he could see the damage that had been done. Legolas finally conceded, and Aeglironion breathed a quiet sigh, almost in relief, when he saw the gash only ran across the bridge of the younger Elf's nose and across his cheek beneath his left eye.

Then, he looked up when a hand grabbed him roughly by the shoulder, finding Máfortion's green eye boring into him. "You will no longer be permitted to stand guard over our guests," he told him quietly, though there was a definite angry note in his tone. He then glanced at one of the other fair-haired Elves with him. "Eruantien, you will now be staying with them while we speak with Thranduil."

The fair-haired Elf smirked as he nodded once, his eyes moving to their two captives. Máfortion grinned, anticipation clear on his face as he tightened his grasp on Aeglironion's shoulder. "Come. I have been eagerly awaiting this moment."

* * *

Glorfindel gave his two companions who were hovering over him a small but good-natured smile. "Elrond, _mellon-nín_ , I assure you I am all right," he told him. "It was only a brief lapse, and I promise you I am already faring better."

Elrond arched an eyebrow as a hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Ai, Glorfindel, your stubbornness will one day be my undoing," he muttered with a chuckle.

Erestor couldn't hide a smile. "I have often made the same claim," he murmured, causing the golden-haired warrior to roll his eyes in feigned irritation.

The Elf lord's amused look melted into a warm smile as he leaned a bit closer, studying his friend's pupils. "You do appear better," he conceded. "Although with your strength yet to return, you must still proceed with caution."

Glorfindel's cheerful look broadened. "I assure you, I will remain cautious," he said. "You can trust me, Elrond."

"Aye, I know I can." Elrond pushed himself to his feet while Erestor rose from beside him before he reached out a hand for the other Elf lord. "Although I have also known you long enough to know that you are not always as cautious as you should be."

A low chuckle rumbled in Glorfindel's throat as he reached out and accepted his friend's proffered hand, allowing him to help pull him to his feet. He paused when a brief flash of dizziness passed over him before his smile returned as he regained his bearings. "I will be fine, _mellon-nín_."

A brief look of worry flickered across Elrond's fair features before being replaced with a small smile when he saw his friend was still standing. He began to turn away to return to his horse, but he was stilled by a gentle touch on his shoulder.

"How do you fare, Elrond?" Glorfindel asked quietly while Erestor regarded them both curiously.

The Elf lord arched an eyebrow as he glanced back at him. "I am well," he answered. "I am unsure of what you speak of."

However, the twice-born warrior continued to gaze back at him steadily, his light gaze seeming to see right into his very core. "What did you see?" he whispered.

Elrond gazed back at his friend for a long moment, still able to to see, to feel, what had been his final moments so clearly when his fingers had brushed against his son's weapon. The large hand crushing the very life out of him, the feel of his breath escaping him, the struggle of his heart to beat just once more... It had told him where they needed to go to find Elrohir and Legolas, but it had also shown him just what the cost of finding them would be. It was one he was willing to give for the people he loved, though he could not deny the unsettled feeling that was wrapping around his heart, constricting it, when Glorfindel's gaze continued to seemingly pierce right through him, as through the flickers he had seen, all of his innermost thoughts, were visible to him as well.

"'Tis nothing to be concerned over, _mellon-nín_ ," he replied, attempting to keep his tone from wavering. "I saw what I needed to in order to determine Elrohir and Legolas' location."

Glorfindel sighed, not removing his hand from the other Elf lord's shoulder. Though before he could press the matter further, another, somewhat irritated, voice spoke up.

"I beg your pardon, but I do believe it to be a matter to be concerned over, Elrond," Erestor, who almost momentarily appeared to be surprised by his own brusque manner before more determination replaced it, said. "Mayhap others have not noticed, though Glorfindel and I most certainly have. There has been a change in your demeanor ever since what you have seen led us to the Trollshaws. There is something burdening your mind, we see it. You may entrust us with what you have seen, _mellon-nín_ , as you always have."

Glorfindel, impressed with the chief advisor's timely outburst, smiled faintly as he turned back to their third companion. "As Erestor told you, we are by your side, Elrond," he added quietly. "As we always have been."

The master of Imladris regarded his friends carefully for a long moment, almost certain that the doubts, the worries, he had been attempting to quell were slipping through the confident façade that had been using as a mask. They were both ones he had always been able to trust with what his visions had shown him, that had never changed. But he could not tell them what he had seen, he knew, not yet, not here. He could not distract from the purpose at hand of rescuing his son and the Mirkwood prince by having them be concerned for him.

But perhaps, perhaps he would still have the time to tell them, as well as to give them some parting words.

"I take comfort in knowing that you will both be with me now," Elrond finally murmured with a smile that wavered ever so slightly. "And it is my hope you both know that I have the utmost trust in you."

Erestor and Glorfindel exchanged confused glances, but then realization dawned on the latter. His eyes widened as he quickly turned back to the other Elf lord. " _Mellon-nín_..." He attempted to tighten his hold on his friend's shoulder, but Elrond had already loosened it as he carefully removed his hand. He was then only able to watch as he gave both him and the chief advisor a brief nod, his smile lingering, before he began to make his way back toward his horse.

The golden-haired warrior let out a quiet breath as he watched after Elrond before turning to Erestor beside him. The slender advisor was watching his lord without a word, his fair features impassive. Though he knew the other Elf well enough to see that by how white his knuckles were as he gripped the sleeves of his black tunic, how his lips has pressed into a thin line, and how his brow furrowed only a little that he was just as unnerved as he was about their friend's words.

Though as he continued to gaze at Erestor, the feeling of dread that had been lingering just beneath the surface since before they had left Rivendell began to make itself known once again, grasping at his heart. The force of it startled him as it caused his breath to catch in his chest, and he was unable to stop his hand from reaching out and resting on the dark-haired Elf's arm.

Erestor glanced down at the feel of his touch before his dark gaze moved up to rest curiously on the twice-born warrior's paler features. "Yes?" he asked a bit irritably. Though to the trained ear, which Glorfindel's was, the tension in his quiet voice was clear.

Glorfindel quickly regained himself as he gave his friend a small smile. "'Tis nothing, _mellon-nín_ ," he answered, loosening his grip before he lightly patted him on the shoulder. "I am merely grateful to have you to look after me. _Hannon le_."

The chief advisor's eyes narrowed as he regarded his companion carefully, scrutinizing the cheerful look he was being given for a moment before he gave him a brief nod. "Valar knows _someone_ has to," he muttered, a slight smirk turning up the corner of his lips as his eyes gleamed with something that resembled amusement. "And may I continue to have the strength to do so."

"Aye, 'tis why I am grateful you are here, _mellon-nín_." Glorfindel's smile lingered as Erestor turned away, ensuring his twin knives were secured around him as he began to make his way toward his own horse. The look faded as that dread that refused to subside once again touched his heart with ice cold fingers, and he sighed as his gaze moved to where Elladan was standing, almost absentmindedly brushing his slender fingers through his horse's mane. His eyes narrowed in concern.

Elladan hardly noticed how long it had been since his father had called for them to stop so he could check on Glorfindel's condition. All he knew was that even if they had not paused, they never could have reached the Trollshaws soon enough. The gentle night breeze, the soft moonlight, those around him had all fallen away, and the only thing he could feel was Elrohir's pain in his ribs, duller but still throbbing in time with his racing heart. All he could see was his brother's face.

 _Stay strong, Elrohir..._ he thought desperately, reaching out through the bond that had always connected them and desperately hoping that he could hear him now as he always had. _I am coming for you,_ muindor _. Hold on..._

"I cannot imagine the fear you must be experiencing."

The older twin glanced away from his horse when he heard the almost hesitant voice, attempting a small smile when he saw Tidurian had ventured closer. "It is more fear than I have ever felt for myself," he murmured, his gray gaze faraway. "There is no one closer to me than him, it has been so for our entire lives. It is almost as though we are two halves of one being. We know the other's thoughts, emotions... To feel his fear, his pain, his torment now..."

The Mirkwood guard's gaze faltered, unsure of how to offer any sort of comfort. It was a unique bond he truly did not understand.

"There was a time, not long ago now, where Elrohir and I were returning from an Orc hunt we had led," Elladan continued, almost to himself as he seemed to forget Tidurian was even there. "A sudden storm descended upon us before we could reach the borders of Imladris, and I was separated from our party. I was lost for hours in the torrent. And then, I dislocated my shoulder and cracked some of my ribs when I was thrown by my horse after he was startled by a close lightning strike that caused a nearby tree to catch fire." He paused, chuckling when the horse nudged him, almost in response to his words. "I am uncertain how long it was until Elrohir found me. The night was getting darker, the rain heavier... Though what I remember most clearly is the panic in his eyes when he finally did discover me. That panic from him being able to feel what I was, to experience my pain, to not be able to aid me since we were separated... It was something he told me, once we were in the safety of our father's care, that he hoped I would never be forced to endure." His fair features darkened. "I now understand... It is almost as though I am enduring his torment along with him..."

Tidurian sighed as he looked away. "I cannot possibly comprehend how it feels to endure that sort of worry," he said. "My own concern for my brother could not possibly compare."

Elladan glanced over at him with wonder. "Your brother?"

A slight smile appeared on Tidurian's face. "I have known Prince Legolas for all of his life," he explained. "I do not remember my mother, for she was weak after my birth and did not survive. My father lost his life in the Alliance, though... I still have some... faint feeling of him, even though I have no memory of him. I always felt it was simply a desire to hold on to the mother and father I never knew... Though pay that no heed. As I had no remaining family, I was placed into the care of the palace's chief healer, who is the queen's mother. They both raised me, as king Thranduil aided in doing when he was able, though he was adjusting to ruling the realm his father once had. I owe a debt to the royal family I could not possibly return.

"When Prince Legolas was born, I would care for and mentor him, along with the palace's chief advisor Aearion, when the king and queen were burdened with other matters. He was always a spritely, adventurous child, often causing mischief." He paused, his smile broadening when Elladan chuckled along with him. "But I loved him as though he were my own brother, and it was a pleasure to help guide him as he grew and matured into the prince and skilled captain he is now."

Despite himself, Elladan felt his own smile linger. "That is why you have such strong devotion to Legolas and Thranduil. They are your family."

Tidurian nodded, a fond look in his light eyes. "Aye, their safety has always been my primary concern," he agreed. His features darkened. "To know that the prince has been taken, and that King Thranduil had departed on his own in his condition..."

The older twin sighed, his own concern for the Woodland king after the poison that had ravaged his system still remaining. "Your king is strong and a skilled warrior," he told him. "I am certain he will be all right until we are able to aid him. Legolas is, also. I have also known him for almost his entire life. I am certain he will be all right, as I am also certain that he and Elrohir will protect each other now."

A moment passed before Tidurian smiled once again as he set his hand lightly on Elladan's shoulder. It was a gesture that was returned.

Then, both Elladan and Tidurian looked away when they heard horses approach, seeing that Elrond, Glorfindel, and Erestor were gazing back down at them.

"Come, we must depart," the lord of Rivendell announced. "We are near now. There is no more time to linger."

* * *

The trees were so thick that they allowed only the barest amount of moonlight to break through, causing the forest around them to be cast into near blackness. They were also so still that there was nearly no life left in them at all, their presence so heavy and burdened that it was almost suffocating.

Thranduil glanced around him warily as he followed Anessen down the dark, narrow path, his intense gaze studying some hollowed out trunks, the nearly black, dried leaves, and the gnarled, twisting branches that drooped low around them. The darkness hanging over them was so thick he could not see much beyond the first couple rows of trees, which unnerved him. He normally took comfort from the warm embrace of the forest, but this one was so cold and lifeless that there was no comfort, only fear. His heart longed for the vibrancy and vitality of the trees of Greenwood that were only a memory, though even with the ever-increasing Shadow tormenting his own trees, there was still love in them to be found, love for him and love for his people. Though in this forest of so much darkness, there was not room for anything else.

His immediate concern, however, was for Legolas, who ever since he had been an Elfling had feared darkness such as this. The thought of him being a captive in this place that was so dark and empty urged him forward with a determined step.

 _I am coming for you,_ ion-nín _..._

Though as he continued along the winding path, he could also not shake the feeling that he was being watched. Thranduil's light eyes continued to move everywhere around him, drawn to what he perceived to be movement in every little shadow. Thoughts of the reports he had gathered over the years from the Trollshaws continued to linger just beneath the surface, keeping him on high alert. Although there was no true sign of anything else of concern among the trees that he could clearly see, he was unsure if they were truly alone.

Suddenly, he hissed when a small, lower hanging branch cut across the left side of his face, dangerously close to his eye. The king raised ringed fingers to his cheek, his brow furrowing when he felt a thin trail of blood.

Quiet laughter came from ahead of him then, and he cast his gaze to his former guard. Anessen had glanced over his shoulder, his brown eyes gleaming in the scarce traces of moonlight filtering through the dense canopy.

"We are nearly there, _hir-nín_ ," he murmured, his tone barely able to contain the sense of victory he felt at having who they had long wanted finally at their mercy.

Thranduil set his jaw, ensuring his head was held high as he continued to follow him.

It was not much longer before some of the heavy trees in front of them broke away, opening up into a small clearing. Thranduil paused at the edge of it, squinting a bit in the brighter light that was allowed to enter the area even though it was still dim, while Anessen continued to walk forward into the circular area. The grass was overgrown in some places, snarled and unkempt, while it was dead and wilting in others. The brown-haired Elf was making his way, a certain spring to his step, toward the crumbling stone remains of what appeared to be some sort of dwelling. Sitting near the top of a broken set of steps was a fair-haired Elf he recognized as having also once belonged to his guard, a smirk turning up the corner of his lips.

"Suiauthon," the king addressed stiffly.

His former soldier rose to his feet as Anessen approached him, bowing his head deep in feigned respect. "The pleasure is mine, _hir-nín_ ," he said, his tone no more sincere than his actions.

Though this did not matter to Thranduil, for his gaze was set on a dark spot near the base of this once grand structure. Though nothing moved, and though he could not see a thing, the presence there was undeniable.

Finally, a deep voice, though quiet, seemed to command the entire clearing.

"We are most honored to finally be graced by your presence, _aran-nín_. It has been much too long."

It was a voice he knew all too well, for it was one that had haunted not only his darkest nightmares but also his waking thoughts since the last time he had heard it. It was a voice that had filled him with fear, filled him with anger, and fueled him with the need for vengeance.

Thranduil straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin even more, his features impassive, as there was finally some movement, and the tall, lithe form of a pale-faced, dark-haired Elf slowly emerged from the shadows. His one green eye gleamed brightly in the moonlight like a beacon, though even his clouded eye seemed to spark to life as a grin spread across his fair features when he beheld the Woodland king.

A long moment stretched between the two Elves where neither moved or spoke a word. Thranduil's eyes narrowed as his lips pressed into a hard, stern line, his hand lingering near where his sword was hidden beneath his cloak. To see the one who had nearly assassinated his father, who he had blinded in one eye, and who had now taken his son to force his hand for this meeting due to how strong his rage at his family was standing before him now when he had believed he would never again set eyes on him was almost too much for his mind to process. So many emotions coursed through him– anger, fear, hatred, even sorrow– that he could not determine which one to focus on first.

Finally, Máfortion bowed his head deeply before stooping on bended knee in feigned reverence. "How noble of you to come to me when you are aware of what I desire of you," he continued as he rose to his feet. A broad smirk appeared on his face as he met his gaze. "Although the prospect of sparing your son's life would be a strong incentive."

"I have done what you have asked of me," Thranduil replied, managing to keep his tone strong and steady despite how his heart and stomach lurched. "Release my son and the son of Lord Elrond. They have no more part in this."

Máfortion laughed as he began to cross the clearing toward him. "Aye, they will be when I say they will be," he told him lightly. "Though there are other matters we must discuss first, _hir-nín_."

Thranduil's body tensed when the raven-haired Elf stopped before him, his one good eye scanning over his impassive features intently as he scrutinized every part. His slips slowly spread into a smile. "You feel as though you are untouchable, much as your father before you did," he whispered. "Though I will show you how fallible you truly are, _hir-nín_." His eye gleamed. "The mighty King Thranduil, at my mercy."

Rage burned deep within the Mirkwood monarch. There was so much he wanted to say in return, so much he could have done with his sword in such easy reach. But he did not. He could not, not with Legolas' life still hanging in the balance.

As much as it went against every fiber of his being, Thranduil took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm, and briefly closed his eyes as he lowered his head. He then met the other Elf's gaze.

"I am yours."

It was then Máfortion's hand struck him hard across the cheek.

* * *

Legolas sat completely still against the wall of the tunnel, his eyes blank as he stared at the opposite wall in the flickering firelight from the torch on the floor near their fair-haired captor. He continued to cradle his crushed hand close to his chest. The pain, though intense, was something he had grown so accustomed to he was now almost numb to it, though the consequences of the injury were much more devastating.

He had no weapons, though even if he did, he could not use them. He and Elrohir were far from where they would be able to receive care, and if he did not get aid for his hand in time, he was afraid that he may never again be able to use his bow. What good would he be in defending his home and his king then?

Though this thought caused even more dread to fill him as it settled over his heart, almost suffocating him. His father... Thranduil was near, he could feel him. And while that thought provided him with only minimal comfort when it normally would have relieved him of any fear, it only caused him more distress. His father was here to give his life to appease some hatred that Máfortion had for his entire family while he would be able to walk free. How could he save his king when he was in this condition?

A single tear fell from his eye and trailed down his cheek.

 _I can do nothing..._ Goheno nin _,_ Ada _... Please..._ goheno nin _..._

Elrohir winced as he shifted position a little from beside him, bunching up a piece of cloth he had ripped off of his own tunic to tend to the deep laceration that trailed across the prince's face. "We were fortunate that his blade's aim was not a little higher," he muttered, attempting to give his friend a small smile. "'Tis possible you could have lost your sight in your eye. Though at least the bleeding has finally stopped."

However, Legolas could find no comfort in the younger twin's words as he instead gazed down at his useless hand. His full sight was merely a minor consolation for what may have already been taken from him, and for what would be taken from him due to his uselessness.

Sighing, Elrohir leaned a little closer, attempting to get a better look at the prince's more dire injury. His brow furrowed, able to tell somewhat in the limited lighting by the bruising and oddly angled bone structures how extensive the damage was. "This will require more skilled hands such as my father's, although I could wrap it in effort to prevent any more movement," he suggested.

Legolas gave a short, mirthless chuckle. "We no longer have the bandages," he reminded him bitterly. His gaze traveled over to Eruantien, who twirled what was left of the roll given to them by Aeglironion between his long, slender fingers. It was a gesture that almost seemed to taunt them, which he assumed was the intention.

"I could attempt to use some more cloth..." When he saw that his friend didn't seem to want to listen to him anymore, Elrohir leaned back against the dusty wall behind him, closing his eyes for a long moment when his wrapped ribs still protested to all the movement. " _Mellon-nín_ , I know this seems dire. Though you cannot lose hope." He reached out, wrapping his hand around the prince's left one before giving it a gentle sqeeze. "There must be something that can be done."

A moment passed before Legolas met his gray eyes. "What?"

Before Elrohir could answer, they both looked across the tunnel at Eruantien when they heard him laugh quietly. "Did you truly believe that Aeglironion was meaning to aid you?" he wondered, setting the roll of bandages down on the ground beside him. "Did you truly believe that any of us would have any desire to aid you while you are in captivity?"

The younger twin met Legolas' stern gaze before the latter turned to their captive. "You would not desire for great harm to come to us if you intend to release us in return for my father's life." Though his tone was confident, his words internally broke him.

Eruantien merely grinned. "Did you truly believe we would allow either of you to walk away so effortlessly?"

Legolas' eyes widened, his stomach dropping. Elrohir's hand tightened around his. "Aeglironion told us Máfortion was going to force my father's hand in a decision between his life or mine..." he began, though he couldn't bring himself to finish his argument.

Was his father's sacrifice truly for nothing?

Their fair-haired captor chuckled. "How naive you are, _penneth_ ," he muttered. "Aeglironion is not aware of Máfortion's true purpose, for we have never had his complete fealty. All he could offer was his hatred for your king for wrongfully banishing him and taking him from his son."

It felt as though a blade of ice pierced the prince's heart, his breath quickening as he leaned against the wall behind him. "Wrongful... banishment..." Thranduil had been wrong? Aeglironion had truly been innocent? He had been truly been trying to prevent the other guards from going through with their assassination attempt on the king?

Eruantien's grin broadened. "I will let you know the truth, _ernil_." He rose to his feet and crossed the tunnel before crouching in front of the two captives. Elrohir moved a bit closer to Legolas, ensuring he was shielding him.

"Aye, Suiauthon, Anessen and myself were planning on murdering your father since we had never approved of Oropher being chosen as king and could not bear to have his son on the throne," he told them in nearly a whisper. "We had planned to use a poison of Aeglironion's own making, though his uses for it were merely for vermin. He was our captain, so it was not difficult to find. Although what we did not account for was he discovered what our intentions were and attempted to prevent us from using it. That was when we were all discovered and brought before Thranduil, as well as Elrond, who was there to give his aid to your father in a trying time. They did not give the situation more than a glance before deciding to banish us all." He paused, his grin returning. "Oh, how Aeglironion protested his innocence. He had an infant son he could not be taken from. But it was too late, the decision had been made. We were forced to leave our home."

Legolas found he could not speak. The father, the king, he had always trusted so implicitly was truly wrong. He had banished someone who was innocent without taking the care required to ensure it. It was something he could not fully grasp.

Elrohir felt his breath catch. He remembered voicing his doubts about the actions of Aeglironion and Amonost while they had still been in Rivendell to Elrond, remembering how his father had told him to not take the burden of worrying about it onto himself. But now that he was hearing that he and Thranduil had made a rushed decision which had turned out to be wrong... Aeglironion had been innocent, just as he had once desired to believe. He thought about the former cook he knew well, who he had grown up with. He had suffered in silence for so long because of a wrong decision by his father and the Mirkwood king. Though still, he could not set the blame on either of them, though he was starting to understand Aeglironion's motivations even more.

"The only reason Aeglironion is aiding you is because Máfortion has promised to give him information about his son," the younger twin murmured. "He would not aid you freely."

Eruantien nodded once. "Aye, you speak the truth," he conceded before a wicked smirk spread across the features. "He hopes so desperately to find his child... It was the only thing that he could think of ever since we were banished. Although, if you believe that Máfortion knows where his child may be after all these years, you are as foolish as Aeglironion."

Legolas' eyes flared. "You have been lying to him? To use him? To turn him against us?" he pressed. He remembered voicing these very doubts to Aeglironion earlier, though the former cook had not been receptive to them. The hope, the desperation, to find his son after being wrongfully banished was too great.

"That is our secret, _ernil_ ," Eruantien said. "We are not aware of anything pertaining to that wretch, and nor does Máfortion have any intention for any of you to live." He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small dagger, the blade gleaming in the torchlight.

Elrohir immediately moved even more in front of Legolas, just as the tip of the dagger rested lightly against the former's throat.

"It is very noble of you to offer your life for the prince's, _penneth_." Eruantien's smirk broadened. "Would he offer his for yours?" When neither the younger twin or the prince spoke, too stunned by all they had heard to respond, he decided to continue. "Thranduil would never know if one of you were to die now, for he will not live long enough to discover it... Though it would not matter, as you are meant to die along with him."

Legolas attempted to pull his hand out from Elrohir's so he could help him, though his friend simply tightened his grip even more to keep him in place. The younger twin hissed when the dagger's point was pushed with a bit more force against his skin, his mind immediately moving to Elladan. His heart sped up a little when he felt his presence much nearer to him than he had anticipated, though he knew it could not cause him to waver in his decision.

Muindor... _I am sorry_... Goheno nin.

Even though the nearness of the one he knew better than anyone, the one who completed him, was comforting, Elrohir knew he could not subject him to the pain he was about to endure. His spirt burdened with the knowledge of the panic this action would bring to his brother, the younger twin focused on the bond that had always connected them, that had always allowed them to know of the other, that had always given him comfort even when they were apart since he could still feel him, before he allowed his mind to close it off from Elladan.

A sudden panic rushed through his entire being at the sensation of being severed from the one who was always with him, the emptiness left behind in his heart causing his soul to scream in agony. There had been times before where he or Elladan had lessened their bond while in either physical or emotional pain to spare the other the full impact of what they were experiencing, he had been doing so since he and Legolas had first arrived at the Trollshaws, but never had it been completely closed off from the other. His heart raced, his face paled, his breath came shortly. It felt as though an essential part of himself had been lost to him. Though as long as he longed to feel the presence of his brother to be able to brave what was coming, he knew he would have to simply be without it. He could not allow Elladan to suffer this along with him.

Eruantien grinned as he leaned in closer, seeming to revel in his captive's distress, as he pushed the blade even closer against his throat. "Your death will not matter," he whispered.

The prince braced himself as Elrohir closed his eyes, though before he could lunge himself at their captor, the heavy hilt of a sword came down on the back of Eruantien's head. The former guard dropped his smaller weapon before his eyes slid closed, collapsing to the ground as his consciousness left him.

Elrohir cautiously opened his eyes when he felt the sharp point leave his neck, quickly checking for any bleeding while Legolas stared down at Eruantien in shock. Then, they both quickly looked up when another fair-haired figure swiftly knelt before them.

"There is no time to linger," Aeglironion told them anxiously. " _Tolo_. Now. Come with me."

 **Author's Note** : Well, there's a surprise ending for ya! I was initially gonna have this as the start of the next chapter, but it felt much more natural at the end here. Plus, I figured I'd let you guys have even more revelations than I was originally going to give in this chapter to make up for my way too long of an absence. So, we have a possible way out for Legolas and Elrohir (neither of whom are in good shape), Elrond and co. are almost at the Trollshaws, and Thranduil and Máfortion _finally_ meet face to face. What's going to happen next? We'll all have to find out ;) Again, guys, I'm so, so sorry for such a long absence. I really, really hope this at least partly makes up for it! Hopefully it won't be nearly so long next time. Thanks for being patient with me, guys! It means a lot! See ya next time!


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer** : Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

 **Summary** : Sequel to "Tainted." With the threat now behind them, Thranduil, Elrond, and their families look forward to healing and life returning to normal in Imladris. But hatred runs deep. When the true extent of the plot against them surfaces, they may already be too late to save all they hold dear and to escape with their lives.

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows, they mean a lot! You guys are the best! Special shoutout to **Lydwina Marie** for reading and reviewing every chapter in one go! You are awesome, my friend! :-) Okay, so for this chapter, we finally get to the part that I know a lot of you are looking forward to– why is Máfortion doing what he's doing to Thranduil's family? Well, the answer is below ;-) Also, the last couple sections are meant to be kinda short and not the most action-packed, since this is basically the lead-in to the climax chapters. So, we've got that to look forward to! Hope you guys enjoy! And thanks again!

* * *

Elvish:

 _hir-nín_ – my lord  
 _ion-nín_ – my son  
 _elleth_ – Elf maiden  
 _naneth_ – mother  
 _penneth_ – young one  
 _saes_ – please  
 _aran-nín_ – my king  
 _hannon le_ – thank you  
 _ernil_ – prince

 _Chapter 15_

The force of the unexpected strike stunned Thranduil, though he managed to stay upright through sheer force of will. He briefly closed his eyes when bursts of pain throbbed in his temples and behind his eyes, gritting his teeth against the wave of nausea and vertigo that threatened to overtake him. He focused on his breathing, focused on his balance, focused on keeping his center– anything that would not reveal the weakness that he felt.

All the while, his ringed hand lingered near the hilt of his hidden sword, waiting for the opportunity to use it to arise.

Then, the Woodland king slowly opened his eyes when Máfortion's deep, quiet laughter reached his ears. The raven-haired Elf approached, his piercing gaze traveling up and down his willing captive's lithe, slightly trembling frame. A hint of a smirk appeared on his face. "I know you are mine, Thranduil, you always have been," he murmured. There was something beneath his words that did not settle well with Thranduil at all. Something dangerous. "You were simply unaware that you were in my grasp until you forced my hand."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed into slits. "Release my son," he said. "I swear to you that I will not attempt to flee. I will honor your agreement." His slender fingers itched to simply grab his weapon and do what must be done, though he knew he still could not. Not yet. Not with Legolas still in potential danger.

Something that resembled annoyance crossed his father's former guard's pale visage. "I have already told you that your prince and Elrond's wretch will be released when I deem it so," he replied. "Not a moment before. You must have patience, _hir-nín_."

The way he spoke those words, that title that belonged to him, with such disdain caused Thranduil's blood to run cold. "Then allow me to see him." He attempted to keep the worry out of his tone, to keep his voice steady. The dizziness had yet to leave him, though he could not afford to show that weakness. Strength was what was needed now. "If he is unharmed, our agreement shall be met. You will have me."

An unreadable look appeared in Máfortion's green eye as a smile slowly spread across his face, and the king felt his breath leave him as dread clutched at his heart.

 _Legolas..._ ion-nín _... my Greenleaf..._

"Do not fret, Thranduil." The other Elf's voice was barely above a whisper and once again dangerous, causing him to strain his ears to make sure he was able to catch every word. "I will allow you to see your son one final time before the end."

Thranduil ensured his face remained impassive, determined not to show the fear, the outrage, the desperation that was raging beneath the surface. There was only one more thing his scattered mind could think of in order to give himself just a little more time... "Then why do you not share what ill will you have against my father?" he suggested. "You hold my son captive, and I have agreed to uphold your conditions. Do you not believe I should be aware of what misdeed that you believe my father has done against you that has led you to take my life as recompense? About why my son has had to be taken and suffer when he had no part?"

While his voice did not waver, his heart, his spirit, did with every word. Ever since he had seen that look flit across Máfortion's face, his worst fears had been confirmed. Something had happened to his son. The pain within him, the fear he had felt in his heart, were a mere reflection of Legolas', and he had to do whatever he had to in order to reach him, to deliver him from whatever torment had been afflicted upon him. His Greenleaf was innocent in this matter and did not deserve to be on the receiving end of this wrath-fueled vengeance.

His life would be enough to pay. There was no reason for Legolas' to be added to that price.

"Misdeed? It was much more than a misdeed, _hir-nín_..."

A long moment passed where Máfortion then began to pace, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The Mirkwood monarch watched his every move carefully, also ensuring to keep aware of Anessen and Suiauthon behind him, standing close to make sure he would not intend to run or to act in any way against their leader.

Finally, the raven-haired Elf came to a stop before the king, another smirk turning up the corner of his lips. "Aye," he murmured with a single, slight nod. "I do believe you should be aware of why your blood now stains your... noble father's hands."

Thranduil stiffened, his narrowed eyes flaring in response to his words. Though he held back what he desired to say in Oropher's defense, for heated words would not do well. At least now, he would finally understand what had caused all of these events to unfold. He would at last understand what wrong his father had supposedly committed that had caused his life to be forfeit long before he and Legolas had departed for Imladris.

Both of Máfortion's eyes, one that was piercing green and the other clouded over, bore steadily into the Mirkwood monarch's equally determined ones. Their wills pushed against each other, neither one willing to bend to the other. Then, the former's smirk broadened. Thranduil felt as though this tale, this account of the supposed evils of his father, was one that he had been wanting to tell him for some time.

"I suppose you remember that I have known your father since the days of our youth," Máfortion began. "In the days when Doriath was thriving and protected... Your father was the first I had considered to be a true friend, someone I could depend on when he took me beneath his wing. It remained as such for many long years, although we were both young and innocent then. Though our friendship may have been strained, temporarily, when it was evident we desired the same maiden."

Thranduil frowned, causing the other Elf to chuckle. "Were you not aware of this part of the tale?" he wondered. "Oropher truly had not told you much of his life before you were born, _hir-nín_..."

"Is your bitterness toward my family so negligible that it began from jealousy involving my mother?" the king demanded.

However, Máfortion only laughed as he regarded his captive with disbelief. "Nay, Thranduil, my loathing for your father does not rest on something so... insignificant." Thranduil tensed, causing the former guard to grin. "Although I cannot deny that Indilwen was elegant. She enchanted all those who gazed upon her not only with her beauty, but with her skill as a minstrel. I remember when many would gather to hear her harp and her stories.

"Though it was Oropher who charmed her. Aye, I was delighted for your father, and my heart was gladdened even more when you were born. A child was something he had always desired. My own wife would come to me years after. She was the daughter of an envoy to Doriath. I am certain you hardly remember her."

Thranduil remained silent. After Máfortion had nearly taken his father's life in Greenwood after his father had been chosen to bear her crown, it had been difficult for him to remember anything else about the Elf who now stood before him from their former lives in Doriath. Though as he strained his memory, he could start to recall snippets of the peaceful times full of companionship and love that they had all shared. His father, Máfortion, and Aearion. His mother playing her music for them when he had been a child. Máfortion and Aearion both having a hand in his warrior training after he came of age. And, if he focused a bit more, another _elleth_ , fair and comely, with a son much younger than he was.

But he could not remember this family of his father's former guard being in Greenwood with them when they had journeyed from their former, ruined home and settled there...

How had it come to this?

"That is what I believed." There was clear distrust in Máfortion's voice now. "Your life was one of ease, Thranduil, as your father was a lord. Our lives were not as such, although they were more manageable when I became a guard in the king's service. Although it took me from Saerwen and Beleg more than I desired." He paused briefly, meeting the other Elf's gaze. "Those were their names, Thranduil. Do you remember them?"

When the king did not respond in any way, Máfortion's eye faltered before hardening once more. "Although, I would assume having less time with my wife and son to be preferable to... being abandoned by my family." His smirk returned. "I do not envy you, _hir-nín_."

The king's heart nearly stopped cold. He would always remember that day...

There had been a few intruders who had infiltrated the king's halls with murderous intentions when he had been only a child. Oropher would have been slain in Thingol's defense, but Indilwen's father had selflessly given his life to spare his. The grief her mother had suffered at this event had caused her to fade. Thranduil had regretted the fate of his grandparents, although he was just relieved his father had returned home to him alive.

Though Indilwen's heart had been burdened and conflicted after the loss from that day onward. The special light that had always seemed to be in her dark eyes, reserved for those she loved, had faded. Her comely features had become withdrawn and haunted. Her music had been silenced, her harp forgotten. Never again had he heard her sing. Never again had he heard her musical laughter. Never again had she told him any of his favorite tales before he entered the world of dreams. Never again had he watched her dance fluidly and gracefully with his father, nor had he ever again stepped and twirled with her himself. Her spirit itself had seemed to diminish.

And then, one day, she had simply left Doriath. Oropher, with all of the love he had had for the one considered to be his equal and his partner, could not deny her request to leave when the very halls she lived in filled her fear and unwanted memories. She had barely even given them a proper goodbye, for it would have been even more difficult for her to leave the parts of the realm that her heart still belonged to. Thranduil remembered those years clearly, for he had felt betrayed and unloved, though he had secretly blamed himself for his mother's departure. For why would she leave if she still loved them? He had become bitter, angry, depressed, convinced it had been some wrong on his behalf that had caused Indilwen to be absent from his life.

It had finally been Oropher who had reached him, for though he had been putting up a front of strength for the benefit of those around them, he had been suffering without Indilwen as much as he had, even though he had more of an understanding of her leaving than he could have at the time. His father had let down his wall, had shown him that he was not immune to his own sorrow burrowed deep in his heart and soul, and had made him understand that he truly had not been alone. And that was when the healing had begun.

Indilwen's departure had been difficult, though what had been even more so was the uncertainty of what had become of her. Her spirit had still been tethered to the world, he had always felt that, and she had not departed Arda's shores, though they were unsure if or when she would ever return to them. Oropher had never had the chance to see her again before his life had been brutally taken, and that caused a pain in Thranduil's heart that would linger to the end of his days, as short as that now appeared to be.

But there had been one night, many years later, that still made him question. He remembered painfully how empty he had been when he had returned to Greenwood, to Helinniel, after the years spent in the Last Alliance. He had lost many of the people who had chosen to follow him and Oropher, he had lost his father, and he was now faced with the almost overwhelming and crushing reality that the duty of ruling had fallen to him. It had been too much, he had needed time to come to terms with the crippling emotions that had threatened to overtake him. So, one night, he had entered the forest alone, against the wishes of Aearion, Helinniel, and his guards, to seek solace with the trees. He had just settled among the roots of a particularly ancient one, his eyes closed as he absorbed their calming energy and listened to their whispered words of comfort, when he had heard it– a nearly silent footstep, almost right in front of him.

 _Thranduil's eyes snapped open, his hand immediately reaching for the dagger he kept at his hip. Though the slender figure before him gave him pause. Though the dress she wore was simple and the cloak draped over her shoulders seemed worn, the light hair that flowed down her back in slight waves shining almost silver in the moonlight and the dark eyes with a hint of a gleam in them that regarded him with concern were instantly familiar. His eyes widened as he gazed back at her, his breath caught in his chest._

 _"_ Na _..._ naneth _..."_

 _The_ elleth _smiled, though the look was filled with sorrow as though a part of her very soul was also departed as his was, as she dropped to one knee before him. She reached out and set a cool hand gently on his cheek before she leaned forward and lightly pressed her lips to his forehead._

 _"You have endured such loss, though you must have strength,_ penneth _," she whispered, her voice lyrical as it had been in his memories of her. "Your people now look to you, and you must have the strength to lead them through the hardships that now lay before your feet. You must not falter now. Your father's crown is also meant for you. Know that I am with you always,_ ion-nín _."_

 _"_ Naneth _... wait..._ saes _..."_

However, as much as he had desired this meeting with her to be so, the moment had almost seemed too ethereal to be real. It had seemed as though in a blink, Indilwen had been gone, even though he had sworn he had felt her fingers brush affectionately against his cheek and the soft kiss she had left upon his brow. He had heard her soft, comforting voice, he had smelled the faint scent of leaves in autumn that he had always associated with her. But she had appeared and then disappeared again too quickly, much like a shade. To that day, he was unsure if it had only been a dream that she had come to him. Though nevertheless, he had returned to his people with his spirit renewed, his strength once more returned. It was his own family, his Helinniel and then his Legolas, that had filled in most of the emptiness left within him after the fates that had befallen his parents.

"I cannot imagine the heartache you must have endured, Thranduil." Máfortion's eye gleamed. There was a taunt in his voice. "To lose your mother in that manner, and then to have your great father slain in battle..."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "If it was not my mother that caused your hatred to grow so, then what ill do you bear against my father?" he demanded, his deep voice stern.

Máfortion's features darkened. The king watched him intently.

"You remember when our dear king Thingol's life was brutally taken, do you not?"

Thranduil took a deep breath. It was a day he remembered vividly. Thingol, as great and respected of a ruler he had been, had made, in the view of many, a terrible mistake when he had enlisted the aid of some Dwarven smiths from the kingdom of Nogrod to combine a Silmaril that had fallen into his possession with one of their most treasured necklaces. But greed had played a cruel trick, and the Dwarves, desiring the treasure for themselves in demand for payment for their work, had slain the Elven king after being haughtily rebuked by him and fled with the necklace before most of them were killed by guards as they attempted to escape from Doriath. With the realm now unprotected after Melian's grief-driven departure, the Dwarves from Nogrod had assembled a sizable army and assaulted Doriath in retaliation to their twisted telling of events. Oropher, Celeborn, Aearion, and many others had gathered forces together in attempt to fight the invaders off, and he himself had joined his father in the battle. Even though great losses were suffered on both sides, the Dwarves had prevailed. Their home had been ransacked, many lives had been lost, and the realm they had loved for so long was falling into ruin.

But certainly the raven-haired Elf couldn't be faulting his father for what had happened then.

Máfortion met his gaze for a long moment before he spoke again, his voice quieter and his one good eye appearing distant as though he were somewhere else than in the middle of the dark forests of the Trollshaws. "Oropher came to me, urging me to join with him in Doriath's defense," he murmured. "Aye, it was my duty... but I could not depart my home. Saerwen and I had a young daughter, Eleniel, who was preparing to celebrate her begetting day, and Beleg was not yet of age to aid in the defense, although your father would have taken him, also. I could not allow that. I needed to protect my family, to bring them to safety. Though Oropher..."

Thranduil briefly closed his eyes as he let out a long breath. His heart filled with dread, knowing what dark turn this tale was about to take. There were no words that he could possibly say to offer any comfort, and even if there were, he knew that the raven-haired Elf would never accept them. "You were expected to fulfill your duty to Doriath," he said cautiously, though his tone wavered ever so slightly. "What could you have do–!"

"I could have fulfilled my duty to my family!" Máfortion's voice rose now, his tone shaking with anger and pain. There was an almost wild look in his eyes. "Your father took me from them to defend a home that was falling in ruin around us, _hir-nín_. It was a futile stand to make..." He paused, attempting to take a few deep breaths in order to calm himself as he paced for a moment before slowing to a stop. He could not bring himself to raise his gaze. In the moonlight, it appeared as though a thin line of tears had appeared in his eyes. "In the midst of the fighting... I experienced this pain, deep in my chest, that I cannot describe. At first, I believed to have been struck without my seeing, although it was a pain I knew could not have possibly been physically afflicted with any Dwarf weapon. It went much too deep. It felt as though a part of my spirit, a part of my heart, had been pierced with the sharpest blade, the life slowly draining from it. From me. It was the most agonizing pain I had ever experienced, and it was one I had experienced not once, but thrice. I could not breathe, it felt as though my heart had stopped. I could not see the battle raging around me. I fled."

The Woodland king's fair visage darkened. It was a pain he was much too familiar with...

Máfortion took a moment to compose himself before continuing. His voice was so quiet it was hardly heard. "It was my younger brother who discovered them while he was part of another group of soldiers handling the Dwarves who had begun to ransack that area of Doriath. He attempted to stop me from seeing them, though I..." He paused, closing his eyes. "I still see them, whenever I close my eyes, whenever I dream. They were lying together, on the floor. Saerwen, Eleniel, Beleg... My son had his arms wrapped around my wife and daughter, a small knife was lying on the floor near them. He had attempted to defend them. The Dwarves had been consumed by hatred. They did not mind that they were slaughtering innocent lives, young lives..."

Thranduil's brow furrowed in pain of his own, in understanding. Because of what Oropher had convinced him to do since at the time it had been deemed to be the right thing, Máfortion had been struggling with the pain of losing his family for all of this time, twisted to this burning hatred and desire for vengeance by the rage and the sorrow, and even the guilt, that had festered inside of him for so long. Their home may have been collapsing into ruin all around them, though his world had been imploding on itself. He almost felt pity for him. The king could understand the utter despair and hopelessness that came with such a loss, although the raven-haired Elf had taken those emotions and, due to having lost his way, embarked down the wrong path.

"Your father did not mind..."

At this, Thranduil's jaw clenched. "My father could have had no knowledge of what tragic fate would befall your family," he said, attempting to keep his own anger from his tone. "That is not the reason he told you to fight, as was your duty."

Though it was evident that Máfortion was too far gone. Oropher had shouldered the blame for the deaths of his wife and children for all of this time in his grief-stricken mind, there were no words that could persuade him otherwise. There was something in his eye, something in his fair features, that was unhinged. Dangerous.

Thinking it best to try a different approach, the king sighed. "I have also experienced the agony you are describing," he muttered placatingly. "My wife... my wife gave her life to protect our son..."

A slight smirk appeared at the corner of Máfortion's lips. "Would that not be your duty to your family?" he wondered.

Thranduil met his gaze steadily despite the renewed pain at the memories from the day Helinniel had departed from him. "I have no greater regret," he admitted. "And my father..."

"Aye, _aran-nín_ , your noble father perished in battle." Máfortion took a few steps closer to his captive, fury again crossing his face at the mention of Oropher. "When my brother and I followed your father..."

"Why did you follow him to Greenwood?" Thranduil interrupted. "If he had caused you this unbearable pain, why did you not depart Arda as many did?"

Máfortion regarded him curiously for a long moment before he leaned close, too close, to his face. "Oropher attempted to support me after Doriath was lost," he whispered. "He attempted to share in my sorrow that my wife and children had perished. He attempted to show me compassion and understanding." He paused, shaking his head. "Though he could not understand the agony that robbed me of sleep, that robbed me of appetite, that nearly robbed me of the will to live. Though the one thought that kept me tethered to this world was that he _would_ understand."

Thranduil gazed back at the other Elf, his breath catching in his chest. "You desired my life, my father's life, even then..."

A broad grin spread across Máfortion's face, and it was a look that chilled the king to his core. It had been so long since he had seen such hatred, such little regard for the life of another. "That dart that I used to poison your father had truly been meant for you, Thranduil," he told him. "Oropher had simply, and unknowingly, stepped in my way." When he saw the Mirkwood monarch appeared too stunned to respond, he continued. "The only way your father would understand the pain I endure is if he had lost the life that was most precious to him. Which would have been yours, Thranduil. I found it unbelievable that he had been chosen to rule over Greenwood the Great, for how could he be a just leader if he had such small regard for the lives of those he ruled over? When those lives meant nothing to him? No one else could see him how I did, they all followed him blindly..."

Though he could have argued this point, Thranduil knew it would be no use as the raven-haired Elf's voice once again continued to rise in anger. He had no doubt that he would not be heard, anyway.

"I still had your father's trust when we first settled, and he even named me a captain of his forces," Máfortion continued. "That was what I needed to complete what needed to be done. I could not have him suspecting your life was nearing its end. When it was discovered we were too near where Dwarves often crossed, he planned to retreat. While each time, I proposed we confront them due to what had happened in Doriath. Oropher would not heed my words. He wanted nothing to do with these Dwarves, he would not risk his people. He would not risk your life, as you would have fought in my command. So we continued to retreat. Although, and I admit that I made a misstep in my haste, I began to assemble some of my soldiers for a preemptive strike without him being aware. You were to be a part, and you would have tragically lost your life defending your people. However, Aearion discovered what was happening, and as the blind, cowardly follower he was of your father, he alerted Oropher. Since your life would have been endangered, he demoted me from my position as captain. And I departed Greenwood for some time. I needed to compose myself, to take some time and decide how to handle what I must precisely. I learned some new trades in my absence, one being how to craft those darts. It was then I was confident I had what I required. I needed to be more subtle, yet bold.

"When I returned to Greenwood, your father accepted me back. He desired, as I made him believe I did, to regain that friendship we once had. I convinced him that I had simply been acting out of anger due to what had occurred in Doriath, that I had not been thinking clearly and had simply been too rash. However, I was also aware that he never fully trusted me as he used to, that he had been wary of me, and that I would never regain my full standing in his eyes. And then, I was banished."

"You were banished after you attempted to assassinate my father," Thranduil hissed, his own fury rising. His fingers began to reach for the hilt of his hidden sword, although he stopped himself. "Because you attempted to assassinate me."

Máfortion gave a careless, half-hearted shrug. But then, his features darkened again. "Oropher attempted to appear noble by answering the summons for the Alliance," he said, briefly shaking his head. "It was only right that he lost his life in that careless charge I have heard tales of. He had so little regard for the lives of those who served him... 'Tis only a shame that so many lost theirs when following him. And, despite that I was far from Dagorlad, that pain... that pain I had felt thrice before was so familiar... For you see, I had warned my brother about blindly following Oropher, though he did not listen. While your father lost his life that day, he took my only remaining family with him. Because of your father, _hir-nín_ , I have lost all those I have loved."

Thranduil regretted all that the raven-haired Elf had lost, though he could not bring himself to feel that pity. There was only rage about what he had done. Without thinking, he lunged forward, reaching for the sword at his hip.

Before he could reach him, however, two pairs of strong hands grabbed his arms from behind, keeping him in place. The king attempted to struggle out of Anessen and Suiauthon's holds, though he abruptly stopped when Máfortion's hand once again struck his face. Though this hit was harder than the first, and the force caused him to drop to his knees. His crown landed in the dying grass beside him, a couple more of the golden leaves breaking off before being swept away and claimed by the shadows.

Thranduil closed his eyes tightly when his head throbbed painfully, blackness threatening from the corners of his sight. One ringed hand lingered near his stomach, fighting the nausea the sense of vertigo had caused. He thought back to when Elrond had warned him his condition could worsen if he pushed himself too far, and he realized with dread that he may have crossed that line as he felt his strength waning.

Then, the two pairs of hands left him, and the king winced when Máfortion's hand tightly tangled in his his long, fair hair before roughly shoving his head around to face another direction. "Open your eyes," the latter demanded in a whisper, his voice right next to his ear.

A moment passed before Thranduil did so, and even though he only found himself facing a line of dark trees, he knew, deep within him, which direction he was now facing. His eyes widened as his breath caught in his chest. His heart wavered as it raced, filling him with despair.

Máfortion smirked at his clear distress. "Aye, Thranduil. South," he murmured tauntingly. "When you were on the field with your father at Dagorlad, did you see the strike that took his life? Did you hear him stop breathing? Did you feel his heart grow weak until it stopped? Did you see the life, that light, fade from his eyes? Did you feel as though that pain caused you to experience the same as he grew cold?"

"Enough." Thranduil mustered all of his strength behind that one word, and he was pleased that it did not fail him. His voice remained steady, even though he felt as though his physical strength could falter at any moment.

"I almost wish Oropher had not been lost so he could know and live with the fear of what you are enduring at my hand now." Máfortion's smirk broadened. "I believe you will feel grateful that he will blissfully be unaware of how your life will end."

Thranduil tensed, his hand once again moving toward where his sword was hidden beneath his cloak. But then, he paused when he saw Anessen lean close to Máfortion out of the corner of his eye, whispering something in his ear. Whatever was said caused his one green eye to gleam.

"Your father may have banished me from Greenwood, though I still have eyes and ears within your kingdom," the raven-haired Elf announced, and the words caused the king's blood to run cold. "Anessen, Suiauthon, and Eruantien were only a few who sympathized with my plight and who did not desire to see your father, or you, on the throne, although we had not known each other well. It was simple for Aeglironion to be persuaded to do the same, although he has faltered from the start despite how his banishment took him from his son."

Thranduil felt dread course through him. Of course that would be the reasoning Aeglironion had desired vengeance so desperately. Though he grasped tightly onto the other part of the other Elf's statement. His former guard had also faltered in doing what Máfortion had asked.

What power did Máfortion have over him?

"Anessen had a companion while living in Greenwood, although unfortunately, his companion also lost his life in the Alliance because of your father's reckless decision," his captor continued, tightening his hold on Thranduil's hair. "His wife faded from grief, even though they had a young son." Máfortion leaned in close to the Mirkwood monarch. "Anessen has told me that he spotted this Elf while he was in Imladris, and he has always been hateful toward your father for what his actions had cost him. You were never safe, Thranduil, not even within your own walls, nor was your son. He was simply waiting for the time to be right to deliver you to me."

Thranduil's eyes widened at this realization when his voice dropped to a whisper.

"He is a member of your patrol."

* * *

Tidurian cast his light eyes up to the dark, twisting trees that towered over him as he brought his horse to a stop in front of the forest. The Trollshaws. It was a place he had never believed he would venture to, and simply being near it filled him with unease, for he couldn't be sure what would be waiting for them in the shadows. Though his king was somewhere in those trees, and for that reason alone, he knew he had to venture forward.

"We must move with all haste, the hour is already late," Elrond said as he leapt off his horse. He took the reigns and led his steed over to a tree where a couple of horses were already tied, Glorfindel following suit.

The young Mirkwood guard jumped off his own horse a bit slower, his gaze traveling to the creature he recognized to belong to Thranduil. It was a sight that caused his heart to fill with both determination and dread. They were so close to finding him, to finding Legolas and Elrohir, but they had no way of knowing for certain just what they had already endured.

Erestor watched as the few members of the patrol guard they had brought with them secured their own horses and prepared their weapons for entering the Trollshaws. "I would dare to assume that they are not being kept together," he mused, ensuring his own twin blades were secure and within easy reach. "In all likelihood, Legolas and Elrohir are still being held as leverage over Thranduil."

"Aye, that was my concern as well," Glorfindel agreed with a sigh. "I do not wish to suggest separating..."

"We will do what we must." The lord of Imladris' voice was steady, his fair features impassive. However, there was something beneath his words, beneath his calm exterior that the twice-born warrior detected that caused concern to flood through him. There was still something his friend was not telling them, and he could not shake the feeling it was significant.

Elladan finished securing the reigns of his own horse to the tree as well before he turned to face his father. His eyes narrowed, but before he could say a word, his eyes widened as his breath caught in his chest as he gasped. His body began to tremble before his legs gave out from underneath him, and he collapsed to the ground before a scream ripped from his throat.

Elrond immediately turned to face his eldest son with worry. " _Ion-nín_!"

Since he was nearest, Erestor dropped to his knees beside the older twin, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close to his side in effort to steady him. "Elladan, _penneth_ , what is wrong?" he asked anxiously, looking into his pale face to see that a couple of tears had appeared on his cheeks. "What ails you?"

However, the chief advisor didn't get an answer as Glorfindel and Elrond both gathered close, for Elladan's trembling was too much. Another scream escaped from him, but this time, they were able to detect one word.

" _Elrohir_!"

The dark-haired Elf lord gasped himself, feeling the energy of his younger son had greatly diminished, almost to nothing. Fear grasped his heart. He had gotten so accustomed to feeling the pain that Elrohir had been enduring while in captivity that he had been able to ignore it. Though now that it was not there, the near emptiness in its place was much more noticeable. What that might have meant...

"I... I cannot feel him..." Elladan gasped as his body racked with a sob. One shaking hand traveled to his chest, over his heart, his fingers grasping at his tunic as though he were searching for something. "I... I have always felt him... Now... now there is... nothing..."

"He still lives, _ion-nín_ ," Elrond murmured in an attempt to soothe him, lightly placing his hand on top of his older son's head as he glanced over his shoulder at the dark trees that loomed before them. Of that, he was certain. For how long, however, was more unclear. "We cannot delay..."

"I will stay with Elladan until he is able to continue," Erestor told him, causing Elrond to look back at him. "Go onward. Find Elrohir, Legolas, and Thranduil. We shall follow you."

A look of gratitude crossed the master of Rivendell's face, and he set his hand over his heart as he gazed back at the slender advisor. Erestor simply smiled in return.

Glorfindel pulled a dagger out of its sheath at his hip. "I shall leave markers for you to follow," he said. "That way, you shall be able to find us quickly."

Erestor nodded once in return. " _Hannon le_."

With one more concerned glance at Elladan and then one more of determination at each other, Elrond and Glorfindel led the way as they were the first two to step foot into the forest of the Trollshaws, quickly being swallowed up by the shadows as the guards went after them. Tidurian lingered behind for a moment, glancing at the advisor and the older twin before he set his hand on the hilt of his sword and followed, quickly disappearing from sight.

Erestor sighed as he glanced down at Elladan wrapped in his arms, feeling that his trembling was starting to subside slightly. He set his hand on the side of his head, bringing it to his shoulder before he rested his forehead against his, attempting to send him comfort.

"Breathe, _penneth_. Calm yourself now," he whispered. "It is all right. We will find Elrohir..."

He only hoped that it would be in time.

* * *

Elrohir winced as he leaned more against Legolas for support, wrapping an arm somewhat loosely around his throbbing ribs that were protesting to all the motion. Beside him, the prince, who had the younger twin's arm wrapped around his neck and his own arm wrapped around his friend's waist, was not faring much better, for the pounding in his head had only increased as they attempted to make their way away from the tunnel they had been kept in. His crushed hand was also throbbing in time with his racing heart, making it a bit more difficult to keep a secure hold on Elrohir.

They both kept their eyes solely on the fair-haired figure in front of them as they did their best to keep up with his quicker pace as he led them along the narrow trail. The deepening darkness seemed to continue pressing in around them as they went, the trees seeming to bend inward as though they didn't want them to leave, and they were both aware that if it hadn't been for the torch Aeglironion was holding, they likely would have lost sight of him altogether. Legolas winced when a thin branch cut across his cheek, making sure to keep the former cook in his sights.

Though he had to admit, there was a large part of him that was still wary of Aeglironion's change of heart, even though he had saved Elrohir's life when Eruantien had attempted to take it. It appeared as though the older Elf had finally taken his words into consideration, that Máfortion and those aiding him did not truly know where his son was and that he was simply being used, but there was still a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he could be leading them into some sort of trap. Though why would he make the effort to do so if their plans were to have none of them leave alive, and when Eruantien had been close to succeeding? The prince briefly shook his head, unable to fully concentrate on all of these racing thoughts since his skull felt as though it was going to crack open with every step he was forcing himself to take.

Soon, the three Elves reached a broader, perpendicular path that had a little more moonlight, and Aeglironion came to a stop as he looked in both directions. Legolas and Elrohir stopped near him about a minute later, both of them gasping as they attempted to catch their breath. The former guard then turned to them.

"Follow this path," he instructed, gesturing to his left with the torch. "It will lead you to the borders of the Trollshaws. You will be able to escape."

"How do we know... you are not planning... to ensnare us?" Legolas asked, his eyes narrowing as he gazed back at their former captor.

Aeglironion sighed, though his eyes revealed he had been expecting this sort of resistance. "If I had been planning to bring harm to you, _ernil_ , I would have allowed Eruantien to proceed with his threat," he answered. "I know it is difficult for you to trust me, nor do I expect you to forgive my actions, as I am unsure if I will ever be able to forgive them. But you must trust me now. _Saes_."

The prince was unsure of how to answer, though someone else did it for him.

"I trust you."

Legolas glanced at Elrohir, seeing there was a small smile on his friend's face. Aeglironion looked at him with surprise. "You are one I have known since I was but a child," the younger twin stated. "I can see you are truly attempting to aid us now. I am grateful for your efforts, as we would not have been able to leave that tunnel on our own, and now you are putting your safety at risk for us. I truly do regret how Máfortion has used you, promising you something he is not aware of..."

A sad smile appeared on Aeglironion's face, though there was a sense of fondness in his eyes that the prince had never seen before. " _Hannon le_ , Elrohir," he replied before a sense of urgency returned to his tone. "Now, you must be as quick as you are able. It should not be long before Máfortion realizes you have been freed. I will do what I am able to prevent that for as long as possible."

"What about my father?" Legolas demanded as he turned back to the former guard. Elrohir may have been able to see the good in him, but he was still wary. "I cannot abandon him here."

Aeglironion's gaze faltered. "There is nothing you would be able to do for your father in your condition," he told him softly. "I am aware you desire to ensure his safety, though you will only be putting yourself, as well as him, in more danger. I know your father well, _penneth_ , and I assure you he will do what he is able to fight Máfortion. He would not simply give in. You can aid him the most by leaving this place, taking the horses he and Anessen arrived here on, and returning to Imladris. A guard patrol will pass by here somewhat regularly, mayhap if you are fortunate you will be able to receive their aid. But you must move with all haste if you desire to save him. While you do, I will do what I am able to aid your father."

Legolas gazed at the former guard for a long moment, able to hear the sincerity of his tone and recognizing the truth of his words. He had never felt more helpless, leaving his father's fate in the hands of someone he still wasn't sure he could trust, of someone who had been forced to harm Thranduil before. Though, knowing he had no other option at the immediate moment, and knowing that Aeglironion's suggestion was better than doing nothing, the prince closed his eyes against a slight wave of dizziness as he bowed his head.

" _Hannon le_."

Aeglironion placed his free hand over his heart and nodded once in return. "Now go."

Then, all three Elves glanced back at the narrow path they had just emerged from when they heard twigs cracking and leaves rustling before an angry shout echoed in the trees.

"Eruantien," the former guard muttered, his eyes narrowing before he turned back to Legolas and Elrohir. He reached out, handing the torch to the latter. "I will handle him, and then I will do what I am able for Thranduil. But you must go! Hurry!"

Before the prince or the younger son of Elrond could say a word, Aeglironion hurried past them and disappeared into the shadows of the trees. They glanced at each other before casting wary glances at the foreboding forest around them.

They were alone.

 **Author's Note** : All right, that's it! So, we have why Máfortion's doing what he's doing and why he went so crazy, we have a traitor in Thranduil's patrol (hmmm...), we have everyone at the Trollshaws, and we have Aeglironion seemingly trying to help out the good guys. But, we still have a few chapters to go, so anything can happen yet! We're kinda almost at the end now, guys (I don't see there being more than five chapters left), and as I said in the beginning note, the last two sections weren't the most action-packed because we're leading up to the climax (which I see being the next couple of chapters. And then we have the fallout, with all the injuries sustained and the... casualties). So, we're almost there! Just a little note. The story of Indilwen and Oropher was one I first introduced in my story Ripple Effect (which I'm still planning on writing the sequel to), though the circumstances were a little different because it's more of an alternate universe timeline. So, that's that. But anyway, thanks for reading! See you guys next time!


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